A Sue's Story
by Resourceful-Idiot
Summary: They’re annoying. They’re parasitic. And now they’ve realised. Canon has never been in so much trouble. A full cast of Sues, Stus and triplepronged cutlery!
1. Best day of your life

[Usual disclaimer]

Not entirely sure what genre this is. Probably parody. Anyway, presenting:

A Sue's Story

**Chapter 1**

It was the best day of her life.

Serena Amber Mercedes blinked her large, perfect turquoise eyes as she stared around at the crowds of robed figures bustling back and forth across Platform Nine and Three-quarters. She tossed her head a few times, savouring the feel of the light wind as it caught in the golden waves of hair that flowed elegantly down her back, outlining all the right curves. Her perfectly-manicured fingers tightened momentarily around the trolley along side her, stacked high with her most precious possessions – trunk of clothes brought specially for her new year, a box of Muggle CDs, and the gilded box housing her ebony-furred cat, Blackfire. There was also a box of spellbooks, but these were for show rather than function. Absently, she wondered if she should have brought a wand, so she could keep her secret easier...but it didn't matter yet.

A bright smile rose onto her face again, flawless teeth glinting in the morning sun. It was her first year at Hogwarts, even if she would be a year older than the other first-years, and she couldn't wait to see what it had in store for her. She knew everything that had happened there over the last few years, all the adventure, and she just _knew_ that _her_ first year would be even better, even more exciting...

She flicked her hair again.

It was the only thing that saved her.

The air hissed as something shot past her ear, so close it almost scraped the skin, and Serena span round, shocked, as an agonised yowling erupted from her trolley. Her eyes widened in horror as they focused on the half-melted debris that a split second before had been her catbox. It was barely recognisable now. A thin, metallic shape was sticking out of the warped plastic, and a thick, acrid brown smoke was boiling out of the cracks. The yowling – at first recognisable as a cat – had degraded into a guttural hiss, but nothing of Blackfire could be seen past the billowing smoke.

"Blackie!" Serena darted forwards, automatically reaching towards the metal spike, when suddenly a hand locked over her wrist in an iron grip. She was wrenched forcibly to one side and shoved down behind the trolley.

"You do _not _want to do that," a male voice rumbled by her ear as the attacker came into view – a tall figure, hidden behind a dark brown, hooded robe. A booted foot lashed out, catching the trolley a sharp blow that toppled it onto its side, scattering her belongings onto the platform. The dark figure dropped down next to her, slamming a gloved hand over her mouth as he did so. Serena gave a stifled yelp of fear as the upturned trolley shuddered violently, the wood blackening instantly as a series of hidden things slammed into it. She nearly swallowed her tongue in terror as the last blow hit, and this time three tiny metal spikes punched through. Somehow, the light seemed to catch the silvery tips in a way that sent cold shivers down her spine.

"That's it!" The robed man leapt upright, whipping a thin wand from somewhere in his robes. He yelled something Serena didn't quite hear, and then suddenly his hand locked around her arm again and wrenched her upright. She didn't even have time to register what was happening before the man hauled her bodily aside. There was a sickening moment of weightlessness, then her feet slammed into rough ground and she found herself stumbling across the rails as her captor dragged her infront of the huge, steam-wreathed shape of the Hogwarts Express. They skidded to a halt in lee of one of the huge steel wheels and Serena was slammed into it, half-crushed against the metal as the man pressed a hand over her mouth again.

She couldn't have moved, even if she dared to.

A pair of dark green eyes locked with her own.

"Who did you speak to?" The sound was more a low growl than a voice, and it was only the glimpse of pale skin hidden behind the hood that reassured her that the figure she was facing was man rather than monster. She didn't respond, but let out a gasp as she was shaken violently.

"I won't play games! We have thirty, maybe forty seconds before they figure out where we are! _Who did you speak to on the platform?_"

"N...no one!" Serena managed to squeak past the glove. The man glared at her, swore loudly and swivelled round.

"Dammit…you hadn't interacted yet? Shit... This way!" He grabbed her arm again and started to pull, but this time she struggled. Her mind had caught up enough with events to swap some of the panic for anger and she doubled her efforts to escape.

"Let me go! I'll scream!"

"_Radius Petrificus!_"

Serena's arms suddenly locked themselves to her sides, and a fresh wave of shock surged through her. How did he know _that_...? Her surprise at the action was quickly swamped by fresh panic as the man ducked, hoisted her onto his shoulders, and started running again. She opened her mouth, sucking as much air into her lungs as possible, readying an ear-splitting yell _bound_ to attract the attention of those on the platform – 

"_Silencio!_"

Her scream managed little more than a squeak. Tears welled as she struggled ineffectively against the invisible bonds and gag. What was happening? Someone was firing burning metal prongs at her, and now she was magically trussed up and being carted off to Merlin-knows-where by some strange man who could be a Death Eater or worse! _Why was no one helping her?_ The thought sent a cold shot across her mind.

She had just been physically abducted from the busiest magical station in England. The platform was swarming with students and their families – _how could this be happening?_

Her swirling thoughts were cut off as her captor suddenly dived sideways into a maintenance alcove set into the walls alongside the track. Behind them, a series of metallic, vibrating thuds echoed sinisterly, and the man swore again.

"Fast re-loading this time," he muttered, obviously to himself, and he leaned forward, pressing his eye to a cobweb-wreathed hole in the brickwork. There was a moment of suspended time, and suddenly the stone rippled and drew back like a curtain, exposing a dark tunnel. The man dived through, hurling her to the ground inside, and span round with his wand drawn again. He muttered something and the wall re-formed, plunging the tunnel back into darkness.

Serena lay there, panting heavily with fright. Her mind had gone numb. What was happening? What was going to happen?

__

What was going on?

"Get up." Hands dug into her shoulders and she was wrenched upright again. She felt an arm slide tightly round her shoulders and propel her forward, unseeing, into the darkness.

__

"Don't try anything funny," the voice was right next to her ear, and she couldn't help but shudder, "Do, and I'll use a full bind. Understand? Just nod."

__

She nodded. What else could she do?

They continued in silence. She had no idea how long it took – seconds turned to hours in the clawing darkness – and how the man could see anything was beyond her. Tears ran freely, silently, down her cheeks. She didn't know where she was, or what had happened.

This wasn't right.

This wasn't what was supposed to happen!

It...it just wasn't _right_!

__

She choked back a silenced sob, and suddenly the man's grip tightened again, pulling her to a halt.

"_Lumos_."

__

Soft white light surged out, illuminating the area. Here, the tunnel opened up into a rough chamber. Aside from a two-metre, blackened alcove chiselled into the brick and concrete aggregate that made up the far wall, there was nothing there. 

"_Incendio_."

Flames sprang up in the alcove, licking hungrily at the brickwork, and Serena was shoved forward. Her captor flung a fistful of powder into the flames, which flared green, and Serena felt her eyes widen. _That _thing was on the Floo Network?

__

She didn't have time to consider it further as she was pulled into the alcove. The emerald flames surged up around them as the man snapped something, and then the world dissolved in a sickening, swirling mass of green light. When her feet hit solid ground again, a few stretched-out seconds later, Serena felt her knees give way. The man grunted as he suddenly had to take her weight, and she found herself flung roughly onto an ancient, dusty sofa. She caught a brief glimpse of the room they had materialised in, but not enough to make out much more than that it was larger than the tunnel, before her view was again obscured by her captor's cloak as he towered above her.

She tried to kick him, but another swift flick of his wand pinned her feet to the floor. Hands clamped onto her shoulders, her head forced back as the wand tapped her throat, removing the bind. The hood loomed over her.

"What's your name?"

It took several attempts before she could manage anything more than a terrified squeak, and even then her voice was several octaves higher than it should be. Bats would have winced.

"S-Serena Amber Mercedes."

The man made a low sound, which might have been a groan.

"Let me guess, your day plan included 'straight into Gryffindor'?" The sarcasm was heavy in his tones; "At least from the sound of it you're not American. _Serena_... Dammit girl, you're the third one this month!"

"Wh...what?" Confusion flared for a moment, past the fear, and she squinted up into the hooded darkness, "I'm what?" A fresh wave of fear rose suddenly as a new thought eased unpleasantly into her mind. She was the third? Third _what?_ The third one he'd done this to? _That_ was frightening, and she doubled her struggles against the arm binds. If she could just get one hand free, then she'd-

"I don't have time for games," the man growled and reached up, wrenching his hood back, and Serena got her first good look at her captor. He wasn't what she'd imagined. The face staring down at her was young, and would be handsome if his expression were less hostile. He had rough-chopped brown hair, slightly too long and unruly round his ears, and features that wouldn't have been out of place staring out of a pin-up magazine. The deep emerald eyes she'd seen before locked with her own...and a small gasp escaped her lips as the gazes met.

His eyes weren't green anymore. They weren't _anything_ anymore, not for long. It was like staring into twin rings of some strange kaleidoscope – shades and colours rose, swirled and faded as she watched, his stare rippling from green to blue to grey and a dozen shades between then back again.

That...that wasn't...

...but..._she_ was the only one...

"Seen this before?" The question broke through the shield of shock around her mind and Serena found herself nodding automatically, unable to drag her attention away from the cycling gaze.

"My..."

Another groan cut her off, but this time she managed to coax a little anger into rising, and made a fresh attempt at fighting the bind. She summoned the best glare she could muster.

"Who are you? What do you want with me? I'm supposed to be on the _train_," it seemed important, somehow, to emphasise that, "They'll notice I'm gone, I-"

"The only people who'll notice you're missing are those who were aiming for that over-styled head of yours," the man snapped, and suddenly his wand arm vanished into his robes again, emerging a split second later with something silvery clutched between gloved fingers. She didn't get to see it clearly before pain flared in her neck and she let out a yelp. The pressure wasn't much but whatever it was _burned_. It felt as if points of white-hot fire were drilling through her throat and she started squirming violently, trying to get away. The man's free hand latched onto the top of her head, pinning her in place.

His stare swirled hypnotically.

"I'm asking the questions," he growled, "Try not to forget that. So, going by that little admission, and the fact your eyes are reacting to mine, I see you've got an ocular cycle. You've got no wand and are struggling particularly hard to free your hands, so I assume you Channel. Got any other _abilities_? Be advised – I _will_ know if you're lying."

The idea of lying hadn't crossed her mind. Just about the only thought that _was_ occupying her attention was to get the thing pressing into her throat as far away as possible.

"I...I don't th-think so..."

"Age?"

"Twelve..." She trailed off at a snort of disbelief from the man. The locked gaze broke for a moment as he cast a glance over her and shook his head.

"That's always the hardest bit to believe." He shook his head again, but did lean back slightly and the pain at her neck vanished, leaving only a sharp ache. She released her held breath, but the relief was short-lived as the man brought the thing up again across their gaze-line. Just the sight of it made her squirm. It looked like a miniature trident; with its prongs so thick that for the most part they were fused, leaving three vicious spikes protruding from above a concave disc.

__

"W...what is that?" She shuddered as it glinted. The man's cycling gaze caught hers again, pinning her to the spot.

"This?" He twirled it carefully round his gloved fingers, then suddenly leaned closer, so his face was only millimetres away from her own, "Easy. Vampires have sunlight, werewolves have silver. We – have this."

Before she could say anything else, a loud beeping cut through the air. The man jumped, swore quietly and straightened up, patting his robes. After a few seconds searching, he produced a small mobile phone and flicked it open.

"Kate? Hey, yeah, I picked her up. At the station. Uh-huh. Almost cliché," the glance swept over her again, "Claims twelve, I'd say closer to sixteen. Eyes, wandless, blonde. Serena. Yeah, I know. No, no interaction, but they'd picked her up anyway. Okay. Not sure, maybe too far gone... Right. Later." He flipped the phone closed again and pocketed it.

Pushing the odd conversation from her mind, Serena grabbed her chance to look round her surroundings clearly for the first time. It was less than impressive – a medium sized room with faded, out-of-date décor, and furnished with an odd selection of worn sofas, huddled around the fireplace. Two large windows, heavily covered with blinds and dirt, provided meagre light, although what lay beyond the glass was obscured. The fireplace seemed to be the only other way into or out of the room. Her view vanished again as the man stepped back. He glared down at her, then, just for a moment, his expression softened slightly.

"If I unbind your hands, you won't try anything?"

Serena shook her head. She was being honest enough – there was much more to this guy than met the eye, and something told her that she'd never have chance to finish a hex if she _did_ try anything. Plus, the bind was starting to cut off circulation to her arms. The man produced his wand again and tapped her arms. Her fingers twitched automatically as she regained control, but she didn't attempt anything further.

Her heart was drumming almost painfully hard on her ribs, and she swallowed a sob as she looked up at her captor again.

"Who _are_ you?"

The man regarded her coolly, then shrugged.

"Richard."

"Richard what?" Instantly, she knew she'd said something wrong. The man's expression hardened, his glare returning.

"Just Richard."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Her voice cracked as she spoke. The man – Richard – watched her impassively for a few moments. He shrugged again.

"It's what I do. People like us..."

"I'm not like you!" She had to say it, if only to convince herself. The cycling shades in his eyes...she couldn't get that out of her mind.

To her surprise, he laughed quietly.

"Yeah, they all say that. They're 'special'. Well I've got news for you, _Serena_," he spat the name like an insult, "You're exactly like I _was_. Now we'll have to see if you're anything like I _am_."

Panic surged. Serena didn't know why it rose again, fresher, colder, somehow beyond anything she'd felt so far, but it did. She jerked up in her seat, her shoulders pressing into the back of the chair as she tried to get away from the accusing stare above her.

"I'm nothing like you! I'm...I'm _human_!" The _insistence_ in her voice was painful, even to her. Richard shook his head, and when he spoke, his tone was very sharp.

"Not completely. You, me, Kate, none of us is." His eyes flickered again, this time to a strange, almost oily black, and Serena shrank back at the look in those eyes. He turned, slowly, until he was facing her fully, until there was nowhere to hide from the stare.

Eternal seconds ticked past.

Then Richard shook his head.

"You're a Mary-Sue. And believe me, that'll only be the _start_ of your problems."

_______


	2. The Terrace

Chapter 2

It was a long time before Serena was able to do anything more than stare.  The two names were familiar enough singly, but...there was something about the way he'd said them together that tugged unpleasantly at her ears.

"I'm...I'm...a...what...?"

"A Mary-Sue," Richard repeated, as his eyes slid back to their initial dark green, and the stare softened almost imperceptibly, "Familiar?"

She started to say no.  Then she stopped.  There was a strange sensation building in her mind, like recognition but far more unpleasant.  She gulped.

"What is a-?" she tried to repeat it, but the words caught oddly in her throat, and after a few tries she gave up and continued, "-what you just said?"

Richard gave a quiet laugh.  He straightened up, increasing the space between them to a – slightly – less intimidating distance, and shook his head.

"It's been a while since I've actually picked up one as clueless as you," he sighed, "_Serena_... I am _not_ calling you Serena," he slung his robe back round his shoulders, "Try Sam."

"That's a boy's name!" Serena protested, then stopped at a snort from her captor.  Richard rolled his eyes.

"Not the sharpest knife in the draw, are we?  S. A. M.  Initials, you don't seem the type capable of a complete severance straight off."

"Type of _what_?" Serena's fists balled, smacking impatiently into the worn cushion either side of her, and she managed a small glare.  She was confused, angry and scared, but suddenly all that paled into insignificance alongside the sheer, almost overwhelming need to hear some _clarification_ of what he meant.

The pouting seemed to be a mistake, as Richard's gaze iced over and he sighed.  The air rushed through his set jaw, his teeth adding a strange hissing edge to the breath.

"A Mary-Sue.  Okay," he ran a hand through his hair with obvious irritation, "I can't tell you much, not until you're cleared."

"Clea-?"

"I am talking," he snapped, cutting her off sharply.  Serena shrank back again, trying to draw some kind of faint refuge from the sofa.  There wasn't any.  Nothing could erase the fact that less than an hour ago she'd been standing before the most famous train in the wizarding world, ready to board and start what she _knew_ was going to be an exciting year.  Now she was sitting on an ancient sofa in a half-derelict room, her feet magically welded to the floor, under the multi-hued gaze of a man who was standing infront of her and insisting that she wasn't even _human_...

This was _so_ not how her day was supposed to have gone.

She swallowed hard and bowed her head, trying to act submissive.  Richard seemed to accept the gesture and continued.

"You know about werewolves, Veela, vampires, right?  In some ways, very human.  In others, very not.  Loosely, we fit into that category.  _Almost_ human."

"But I _am_-"

"Then you should need a wand!" He snapped and, to her shock, flung out a hand as he spoke.  Concentration flashed across his face.  On the opposite side of the room, an old vase exploded in a hail of patterned shards. 

Serena's jaw dropped.  _No way!_

"But...but _you_ use a wand!"

"I _prefer_ to use a wand," Richard said bitterly, pulling the thin white shape out of his robe again, "For control, there's no substitute.  Wandless magical instance can happen under certain circumstances, but it's generally not controllable in that form for humans.  With us, it's often the default.  My channelling isn't the most focused, so I use this for subtlety."

Serena stared at him, her mind spinning.  She couldn't take this in.  She'd always thought...no, she _knew_ that her ability to use focused magic without a wand was unusual, and that most people's eyes didn't change colour when their emotions ran high, but that just made her unique!  Not _inhuman_!  She wasn't anything _like_ a werewolf!

She wasn't!

She _wasn't!_

"I don't understand." She hadn't meant to say it.  The words just slipped out.  Her shoulders slumped, tears welling anew as her control broke.  Her feet were still stuck to the floor, so she crouched down over her knees, arms folded across the top of her head.  After a few minutes of sobbing into her jeans, Serena raised her head and blinked tearfully up at her captor.

"Please just let me go," she gulped at the air, for once not caring that her carefully-applied mascara was now smeared across her cheeks, "Please!  I just want to go to school-"

"I can't do that."

"_Why not?_" Anger flared past the tears and Serena suddenly found herself on her feet.  She flung out her hands, holding them as steady as she could with the palms pointing directly at Richard's chest.  Maybe he wasn't as tough as she'd thought....

He didn't even blink.  All it did was infuriate her more and she tried to glare at him.

"Why not?" She repeated, her voice starting to shake in time with her hands, "Why won't you let me go?  Tell me or...or I'll blast you!"

"Firstly," Richard folded his arms, almost lazily, "You'd be unconscious before any spell fired.  And second, I'm not going to take you back because I dislike sending kids to certain death."

That surprised her.  She blinked a few times, trying out the sentence several ways in her mind, before deciding she must have heard him wrong.

"I-I know what's happened at Hogwarts, but I'm not in _danger_-"

"Not _Hogwarts_," – there was a strange edge to the way he said the name – "_Wizards_.  Who d'you think was trying their hardest to spork you to the train?  You're damn lucky I'm fast, girl."

Serena's arms dropped to her sides, and her jaw to somewhere around her ankles.

"What?"

"Ask that a lot, don't you?" Richard snorted, then sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Look, as soon as Kate contacts me, we're moving.  I'm not the one you'll get answers from.  Just know that right now we are the only people who are _not_ trying to kill you."

"I don't-"

"Oh shut up." Richard turned away again, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded faintly like 'bloody Serenas'.  Before either could say anything more, Richard's phone beeped loudly again and he nodded.

"Time to go." He turned back to the dying fire, which sprang up again at a gesture, and tossed more powder into the flames.  Another flick freed her feet and Serena meekly moved forward under his glare.  What else could she do?  Escape wasn't a possibility – maybe later, if she could get away from Richard – but... The things he'd said both terrified and fascinated her at the same time.

It was all rubbish, of course.  He was a madman, that much had been clear from the _start_.  She'd go along with this for now, wait until he let his guard down, then she'd be ready and she'd fight and of _course_ she'd win, because she was _obviously_ superior, and she'd find out what _terrible_ secret he must be hiding and _everyone_ would know her name as the Girl Who Escaped **and _she'd B t3h Ul71/\/\-_**

Pain exploded in her left arm and she gave a shriek, the world spinning madly for a moment as her thought broke.  Her hand jerked automatically up to the site of the pain, but her fingers leapt back almost of their own accord as they brushed across the searing metal.  She suddenly found herself slammed hard into the very solid edge of the fireplace.  The grip was iron – her struggles about as effective as trying to press a feather through granite - 

- and then the world came crashing back and the pain _focused_, becoming something tangible rather than the all-consuming fire.  Serena's eyelids finally responded to her commands and snapped open.  Her view was immediately filled with Richard's currently oily-black glare.  A small yelp escaped her lips as his grip tightened again, the razor prongs biting even deeper into her arm.

"Don't do that." His voice was flat, cold, emotionless but for the danger skirting his tones.  Pure threat sheathed in frozen velvet.

"I...I didn't..." Serena started, but was cut off as Richard stood back and gave a quiet snarl.

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about.  Serenas aren't powerful, usually, but be that as it is I am _not_ taking one in unleashed."

"_Unleashed?_"

"Explanations are not my concern," Richard shrugged as he withdrew the spikes and Serena couldn't restrain a shudder of relief.  She blinked tearfully up at her captor as he pocketed the metal and brushed down his cloak in a nonchalant manner, as if he'd done nothing more than some trivial household task.

"Please tell me!  I-I'm _scared_, okay?" A burst of unexpected embarrassment flared past her fear and she had to struggle not to begin staring at her shoes, "Isn't that what you want to hear?"

"No." Richard finally turned back, an odd expression on his face, and Serena found she couldn't meet his gaze, "It's not.  And you know what I'm talking about now.  Control it."

His hand clamped painfully hard onto her shoulder and shoved her into the emerald flames.

"The Terrace."

Serena's stomach lurched as the fire flared up again and the world swirled away into the sparks.  She squeezed her eyes shut to avoid the nauseating whirl of half-obscured grates dancing behind the flames.  Thankfully, this trip seemed shorter than the last, and she was just able to keep her balance when her feet finally hit solid floor again.

She kept her eyes shut.  Where had he brought her this time?

"Richard, checking in." The voice was unfamiliar, female, and Serena risked easing her eyes open a crack.  The resulting view wasn't what she had expected.  They were standing in a slightly blackened brick alcove, which bore the marks of having had a large range removed somewhere in the past.  That made sense – from what Serena could see they were in quite a spacious kitchen, although the area was a kind produced by knocking several cramped rooms through into one rather than good design.  Most of the furniture was a little worn, although there appeared to be some newer, Muggle-style appliances scattered around.

However, while the décor was surprising in its ordinariness, the six figures surrounding the fireplace, brandishing wands, were far from it.  They were...well, 'beautiful' was the only word for it.  Perfect skin, perfect teeth, smooth hair in myriad shades, apparently complete with natural highlights.  Six pairs of almost jewel-like eyes glittered as they fixed hard stares on her and Serena shrank back.  Then she blinked.  There was something...not quite right here.  The women were all gorgeous, true, but some things about them contrasted sharply with the façade of splendour.  Not a single one was wearing make-up, for example, and half of them had their silken locks tied back into what on anyone else would be distinctly unflattering – however functional – knots.  Their clothes were an odd mix of Muggle and Wizard clothing, battered trainers and boots peeking out from under faded jeans or robes, and none of it showed off their figures.

It was...odd.  Surely they'd make more of an _effort_.  _She_ certainly did and-

A small lump caught in her throat, but before she could continue the thought any further she was pushed forward into the semi-circle of wands.  Richard stepped out of the fireplace behind her and nodded to the group in front of them.

"Richard, checking in.  With _guest_," he turned so he was addressing the shortest of the group – a Japanese-looking girl with her head capped in small braids – who had produced a notebook, "Serena Amber Mercedes, twelve, wandless, ocular cycle, no interaction, mostly oblivious.  Platform pickup.  Possible non-expressed l33t incident.  Mild field sporking, suppression only.  Suggested moniker Sam, possibly not stable enough for full separation." He almost sounded bored as he reeled off the list.  Serena finally managed to draw her stare away from the wands pointed at her nose in time to see the Japanese girl nod and step back.

"I'll add it to the archives.  Kate's in Scanns, we had another alert just after you phoned in.  En-route possible breech – Lucy's on it, don't stress."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Luce can handle herself," Richard nodded back and began steering Serena towards the gap that opened up in the wall of women and towards a door at the far end of the room.  Serena looked up at him as they stepped out into a narrow hallway, the breadth of which was not aided by the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stretching along the walls.

"Where am I?"

"The Terrace," he answered shortly, "And almost out of my hands, thank Merlin.  I'm Field, and you, miss overly-developed pre-teen, will soon no longer be my problem.  Move."

Serena found herself being forcibly escorted through a multi-level maze of corridors and stairwells.  The more she saw of this 'Terrace' though, the more puzzled she felt.  Whenever they passed an open door she got a brief glimpse of yet more model-lookers, varying ages but all young, probably ranging from around her own age to however old Richard appeared to be.  She didn't have time to see what they were doing as she was whisked past, but she caught snatches of what sounded like Muggle television from some rooms, yet the sound of spells from others.  The walls were crowded with an odd mix of immobile posters, and the more usual tapestries or animated pictures.  Obviously magical lamps hung from the ceiling in some places, but in others forty-watt bulbs were wired in.

This was _weird_.  Was she in a Muggle dwelling or a magic one?

What was going on?

They came to an abrupt halt at the foot of a particularly large set of stairs and Serena found herself swung round so she was staring directly at Richard again.

"Still afraid, girl?"

"...yes..."

"Then let me give you some advice: If you're scared of _me_, don't go thinking Kate's a safer option." With that he planted a hand on her back again and propelled her up the stairs.  They led onto a small landing, at the end of which was a door with 'Scanns' screwed onto it in metal letters.  Richard pushed it open and Serena stumbled through.  She looked up quickly, unsure of what to expect.  A large room, looking like a cross between a library and an accountant's office, wasn't it.  Bookshelves lined every wall, the continual shelving broken by roller-blind edged windows and the occasional computer terminal.  Desks piled high with papers, parchment and over-loaded pots of stationary were crowded in rough circles along the room, interspersed with slightly battered sofas and equally cluttered coffee tables.  Every flat surface was obscured with a bizarre mish-mash of magic and Muggle items – semi-disassembled sneakoscopes intermixed with calculators, quills piled in with biros, and the pictures in stacks of _Daily Prophet_ copies eyed their sedentary _Mirror_ stack-mates with mild distain.

As she _had_ expected by now, this room was also filled with women.  Swim-suit model-look-alikes in battered robes flicked through massive, dusty tomes, while two girls with shoulder-length pink ringlets tapped furiously away on laptop keyboards, scribbling with peacock-quills on a small mountain of computer printout as they did so.  Others were less fixed in their positions and moved from one area to the next, comparing information.  The air was filled with a low buzz of chatter, broken occasionally by less-ordinary sounds emitting from one of the strange devices wedged into the shelves.

The conversation paused briefly for a second as they entered, but started up again quickly.  Apparently there was nothing novel about the entry.

"Hey Richard!  Good hunting?"

Serena blinked as she looked up and, with considerable surprise, saw Richard's face split into the first genuine smile she'd yet seen gracing his features.  She followed his gaze.  The object of his attention was a young woman, who was leaning on her elbows over the back of a large armchair nearby.  Serena blinked again.  The woman's short, spiky hair was...red.  Bright red – the kind of colour that synthetic dye wished it could achieve.  The face it capped was peppered with freckles above an impish grin.  One dark eye of a mismatched pair flicked closed in a wink and she nodded to Richard, who grinned back again.  It was strange, seeing anything other than scorn or hostility on his face.

"You know me, Jackie."

"Our ever-dark and mysterious Master of the Ocular Cycle?"

"Funny."

"Naturally," the woman grinned again, swung herself off the seat and made her way over.  Serena half made to draw back behind Richard – not that he exactly offered much in the way of protection, but better the devil you knew... She needn't have worried.  The red-haired woman stopped infront of them, and somehow her grin widened even further.

"So you're our new addition," she cocked her head to one side, exaggerating the quizzical expression, "Well, since I know what Richard may have in field skills he often lacks in social ones, I'll assume it ain't all been coming up roses for you today, eh?  I'm Jackie," she held out a hand, "And you are...?"

"I'm...er..." Serena glanced up at Richard again, remembering his reaction to her name.  Was that typical?

Jackie seemed to guess what was bothering her and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Listen, my starting moniker was 'Zitkalasa'.  Frankly, I'd be overjoyed to meet someone whose was worse."

"She's a Serena," Richard said shortly, shooting a small glare down at her, as if it were somehow her _fault_, "I thought Sam would be a less nauseating option."

"Serena?" Jackie raised an eyebrow for a moment, then shook her head slightly, "Third one this month?  Something big waiting in the wings, ya think?"

Richard answered before Serena was able to even start trying to figure out what the red-haired woman was talking about.

"You come in _after_ Kate sorts them, remember?  If she survives, then you can start exchanging theories."

The rest of the exchange was lost on Serena, who was too busy staring to panic.  _If she **survivies**?_  _What the **hell **did he-?_  She didn't get to finish the thought as Richard swung her round again and moved off, to a quiet "Good luck" from Jackie.  Serena tried to turn round but his grip was too good and all she succeeded in doing was sending fresh sparks of pain from the wound on her arm.

"What's going on?" She half-yelled.  She might as well have been under a silencing charm for all the good it did.  No one even glanced up at the sound of her struggles, and she got the horrible feeling that this was all too routine here.  _She_ still didn't even know where 'here' was!

_This was **not** right!_

_It-_

"Right on time, Richard."

Serena's head jerked up at the crisp tones and she came to a sudden halt.  They'd reached the far end of the room, where a small flight of steps led up to a raised area of flooring, surrounded by a wooden rail.  Her attention immediately locked on the figure leaning lazily over that rail.  Even by the standards she'd seen so far, the woman was striking.  She was tall, slender in build and with waist-length, white-blonde hair.  She held herself elegantly, authority radiating out from her at every slight movement.  A pair of pale blue eyes cast a piercing stare down at her and Serena suddenly felt an intense desire to be somewhere else.  As if sensing her thought, Richard's hand closed around her arm again and he firmly escorted her forwards.

"Remember what I said," he hissed quietly, then turned his attention back to the tall woman.  She got the same real smile as Jackie had earlier.

"Reporting in."

"This is it?" The woman – Kate – glanced at Serena again with obvious distain, then sighed, "Well, far be it from me to criticize your field decisions Richard-"

"_Very_ far, Kate," there was almost a warning edge in his voice.  A shot of amusement flickered in Kate's eyes and her lips twitched into a thin smile.

"Indeed.  So, _Serena_," the ice returned as she looked back at Serena, "What _do_ you think of our little group so far?"

It was a few seconds before Serena could force her vocal chords to actually respond.

"I...have...never been so scared in my life..." She squeaked.

Kate gave a quiet sound, which might almost have been concealing a laugh.

"Good start."

____


	3. Of sporks, cellars and Sam

Chapter 3

The stare was the worst. Serena had heard of eyes being described as 'icy' before, but she'd never encountered ones that truly warranted the description. Kate's were. The expression in _those_ crystal orbs almost gave frostbite. It was impossible to meet, and after a few eye-watering attempts she gave up and began to feign intense interest in her shoes. They were a little scuffed now, but still recognizable as the diamante-scattered, one-off exclusives that-

Her train of thought was cut off abruptly as pain flared in her jaw. She gave a small yelp; reality crashing back as her head was wrenched up at an abrupt angle by the hand suddenly clamped under her chin, nails digging sharply into the flesh. Kate's eyes narrowed.

"You will not waste _my_ time mentally assessing your footwear."

Serena would have loved to pull away, but there was _strength_ in that grip, and she got the distinct impression any resistance would dislocate her jaw. All she could manage was a slight tilt in way of a nod.

Richard was right. Kate was easily as scary as he was.

"Flawless pickup Richard," Kate released her grip abruptly and stepped back, "Now let's see if it was worth it. You, _Serena_, follow me." She span round and strode towards the back of the room. A final push from Richard sent Serena stumbling up the steps. She regained her balance and twisted round in time to see the darkly robed figure vanish back into the room's busy chaos. Her stomach lurched strangely. Getting away from him had been her main focus ever since he'd dragged her off the station, but now… Her gaze flicked back towards the tall woman she was supposed to be following, and she couldn't suppress a fresh shiver. This 'Kate' was different, and seemed to extrude an entirely new sense of threat.

She threw a last glance around the room, but it offered no more sanctuary than before. There was no other choice. She scurried after Kate, drawing close just as the woman reached what looked like an ornate wrought-iron elevator set into the back wall. The doors swung open as she approached and she stepped smoothly inside. Serena hesitated, before reluctantly sliding into the lift, which immediately started to descend. She pressed herself into the wall, trying to keep as much space between herself and the pale-robed figure as possible; although Kate gave no impression she was even aware of the girl's presence and continued to stare forward with a haughty, if rather bored, expression. The journey wasn't long, maybe few floors, but there didn't seem to be any actual indicator of distance in the compartment.

Kate still didn't say anything, even as the motion stopped and the doors swung open. She swept out and Serena followed. It was all she could do not to start shaking uncontrollably. _When…when I get out of this I'll have **earned**_ _a place in Gryffindor, surely…_

She physically jumped as the lift shuddered behind her and started rising again. The sound _echoed_ through the brick-vaulted chamber she could see around herself in the gloom. A dull clang reverberated down the shaft and suddenly the room was bathed in light as torches flared into life along the walls. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness, and even when she could see she was reluctant to. She didn't know what kind of lair she'd been brought too…

When she summoned the nerve to actually look around, she was almost disappointed. The room _was_ vaulted and lit by flaming torches, but it was also very obviously an old wine cellar. One wall still held the remains of an extensive wooden rack. There was a large, heavy oak table pushed up against the rack, and Kate was heading directly for it.

Serena hesitated. A second examination of her surroundings sent a few hairs prickling up on her neck. It _was_ just a wine cellar, but it was also very sealed. Some of the walls, while certainly intact, bore misshapen areas as if from heavy impact, and several had scorch marks. There were also thick lengths of rope hanging from the ceiling at intervals, mirrored with other coils on the ground, which were wrapped tightly around heavy iron rings.

"Are you planning to stand there gawking?"

Serena jumped again as Kate spoke, and her attention switched back to the pale woman. She was standing in front of the table, holding up a large pair of dragonhide gloves, and one sculpted eyebrow was raised disapprovingly in Serena's direction.

"I…"

"Over there," Kate gestured towards the set of ropes in the centre of the room as she rammed one hand into its glove. Very slowly, Serena inched towards the rope, eyeing it as if she expected it to leap up and bite her. It did, however, only appear to be rope. While this was in one way a relief, it also reopened the yawning question of what the ropes were _for_. She didn't like any of the suggestions her mind put forward and quickly looked away, trying to focus her attention elsewhere. Her gaze landed on something hanging at an angle from the wall just above the table, and it was a few seconds before she could identify it. When she did, her eyes widened. It was a large, polished wooden plaque like for a hunting trophy, but rather than antlers or a glassy-eyed stuffed deer, attached to this plaque were…wings. Huge, man-sized wings, covered in iridescent bluish, pink tinted feathers. They were beautiful, although the artistic value was slightly diminished by the large black burn across the length of one, and the fact the inner side of both ended in a bloody stump.

"Wh…what are the wings for?" The words slipped out before Serena could stop them. Kate glanced up, and a light smirk crept onto her lips before she turned back to her preparations.

"A little trophy. Well then," she straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve with a gloved hand, "Let's get started, shall we?"

Serena was about to try another question, when she suddenly felt her insides clench with a sudden upsurge of terror. Her stare was fixed on the glinting silvery object clasped in Kate's glove. The three vicious prongs caught the light oddly as the tall woman brought it round, pointing it in Serena's direction.

"No! _Keep that away from me!_" Serena shrieked and made to run but Kate was faster, and waved towards the ropes.

"_Obstringo._"

Life rippled through the cords, which leapt up serpent-like, lashing around Serena's limbs before she had a chance to get away. She let out another yell as the restraints tightened, hoisting her spread-eagled into the air, and tried to thrash against them but they were too strong. Terror like nothing she'd ever known flooded through her, smashing down every mental barrier, swirling around her skull in a boiling tornado of fear. Her body contorted, futilely wrenching at the bonds with such vigor she felt her skin split, tearing against the harsh rope. Dimly, some tiny part of her mind was puzzled at the response from the rest of it. Sure, the things _hurt_, but-

-_no! No th3y c0uld n0t d0 thi5!!1! I…I 4m t3h…I c4n't l3t**…N0!1!!**_-

…

…_that…was _**not**_ me…_

…

When the spork hit, she was almost grateful.

---

Richard heard the familiar sound of the Cellar lift descending behind him, but he paid it little attention. There was no point dwelling on possibilities – either the kid came back, or she didn't. Full sporking was seldom a pleasant affair for anyone concerned, but at least when _he_ did it, he didn't have to worry about leaving the target alive. If a Sue was bad enough to warrant taking out in Field, finesse wasn't the issue.

His train of thought was cut very effectively as a pair of arms suddenly fastened themselves around his shoulders from behind, and he suddenly gained several stone of hanger-on.

"Off to the break room?" Jackie resisted his attempts to shake her off with practised ease. Richard came to a halt and twisted until he could at least see the red-haired attacker.

"No."

"C'mon," she tightened her grip slightly, "Buy you a coffee."

"Don't drink it."

"Chocolate then. I'll have coffee, it'll be a nice side for the cigarette I'm dying for." She began to half-push, half-steer him towards the door, and Richard gave a low growl of annoyance. He did _not_ like being grabbed infront of the whole of Scanns – friendship leeway only went so far.

He gave a slight nod, so small as to be unnoticeable by anyone not attached to his back. Apparently satisfied with his acceptance, Jackie let go and moved round to walk next to him. Neither of them spoke as they made their way through the winding corridors of the Terrace to the area long-nicknamed the 'break room'. It was a bit of a misleading description, more implying a small waiting area than the cluster of fused rooms that made up the space. The floor was not level all the way round, the odd wall still jutted into the main room and, like the rest of the building, any bit of open space wider than a few inches had either a chair, a sofa, a laden bookcase or a coffee table in it. They threaded their way through and headed for the far wall, which was mostly taken up with a massive, multi-tapped copper tea urn, flanked by teetering piles of mugs that were stacked so haphazardly it was clear there was more than just balance holding them up.

Richard got there first and pulled a mug out of the centre of one stack. The gap held for a moment and then, with a low scrape of pottery, a different cup slid into place by itself and completed the stack again. He ignored it, shoved his mug under the nearest brass tap and glared at it.

"Chocolate."

"With sugar and cinnamon," Jackie chimed in as she selected her own mug and flashed him a bright grin, "Hey, you could do with sweetening up."

"Is this particular mood _supposed_ to be annoying me?" Richard growled, but he didn't really mean the harshness. Jackie's cheerful demeanour was a welcome constant, if truth were told. Not that he was very likely to admit it, but he acknowledged the thought to _himself _at least. He stepped aside so the redhead could push her mug under a different tap.

"Coffee, black as a raven's wing."

"Vocalising that description alone should entail a spork to the ribs."

"I'm _kidding_." Jackie rolled her eyes, "Sheesh, are you never off duty?"

Richard's arm, was forcibly grabbed again, but this time – since there was no one else in the room – he allowed himself to be dragged towards a sagging green sofa and sat down. Once seated, Jackie immediately plunged headlong into one of her usual verbal-flash floods and Richard settled back, letting the chatter wash over him as he sipped his drink. The combination of home territory, familiar banter and the sugar kick was enough to lower some of his shields and he gave a small sigh as he glanced round the room. When was the last time he'd been in here? A month at least. It had been that long since he'd been back at the Terrace for anything longer than a drop-off and quick meal. He _could_ do less, there were more in Field now, and those like Luce and Darek were getting pretty good, but… No. He'd handle it. He always did.

Still, it was nice to be able to relax, for…what?. For the first time since all these Serenas started emerging, actually. He felt his face clouding at the thought and straightened up a little, placing his now empty mug down onto the table a little harder than was necessary. Jackie, who had taken a short break from talking to light the thin white cylinder hanging from her lips, raised an eyebrow.

"You're tetchy today, even for you."

"Will you _not_ blow that crap in my face?" Richard growled and waved a hand at the cigarette, "_Coerceo_." The smoke writhed, twisting round and back on itself until it formed a small off-white globe hovering a few inches above the glowing tip. Jackie regarded it with interest and grinned as smoke blown in the other direction immediately arced back towards it.

"_That's_ a new one."

"If you'd buy smokeless ones-" he muttered, but was cut off by a sigh from his companion.

"Look, if there's one thing Muggles do well, it's their narcotics," Jackie rolled her eyes again, "And since _someone_ decided to restrict Diagon visits to those lacking, and I quote 'less than natural adornments', I'm a bit limited in supply. They're also a damn sight more expensive than a pack of Embassy, now stop changing the subject and tell me why you're glowering at everything down to the air molecules."

Richard threw another scowl at her, but both knew it was show and habit rather than anything else. There were a select few at the Terrace who could get away with speaking to him like that, or who would even dare to do so.

Some kinds of friendship held a lot of sway.

He sighed and dropped his defensive tone again.

"I'm…worried."

"About the kid?"

"No," he snorted, "She's probably insufferable enough to make it and become your problem. I _mean_ that she'd the only one in – what? Four months? – who's had any kind of Self. It's whiny, blinkered and annoying, but there's more residual in there than I've seen for a long time."

Jackie nodded a silent agreement and Richard found himself running through a quick mental assessment of recent weeks. Sueage levels were at a high, which in itself was nothing unusual, but it was the lack of anything else that was concerning. Overall quality was known to decline in big highs, but never this much before. Even he'd only brought in four in as many months, including the latest, and he was _good_. None of the others had lasted. One hadn't made it through the sporking, one survived but so mentally damaged she hadn't lasted the week and the other…had gone berserk at Kate.

That had taken a lot of cleaning up.

"There's nothing beyond the Sue," he muttered, "So many times. It's getting worse, and we're getting fewer and fewer coming out of it."

"Hey," Jackie leaned forward and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder; "We've had big highs before. Remember last Easter? We've won this before, we can do it again."

"That isn't what I'm worried about." The retort was a little sharper than he'd meant it to be, but he didn't try to correct it. She didn't understand. Reasonable enough, admittedly. _He_ wasn't exactly sure what his instincts were telling him either, but if he was _worried_…

He _was_ worried. There was no 'if'. He didn't know why, and that was dangerous. Not knowing all the facts when you were supplying them, that was dangerous. Part of you knowing something the rest of you was unaware of – here, that was particularly dangerous.

He stood up abruptly.

"I'm going to shower and sleep. Straighten my head out a bit," finally, he tried a small smile, "See if I can't be less 'tetchy'."

"Sounds like a plan," Jackie returned the grin and glanced at her watch, "And I'll go get a room ready. With any luck, we'll be up one houseguest tonight."

"The eighteenth residual _Serena_."

"Hey," Jackie chuckled, "I think _Serenas_ have got it easy. Zitkalasa Weasley? You're mad Sue, mad," she giggled and poked herself in the chest. Richard rolled his eyes but couldn't resist a smirk.

"Yeah, you got it bad."

The mismatched stare twinkled as she straightened up and prodded him in the stomach with a black-polished nail, "And you can start? What were _you_ before sanity invaded?"

"You know perfectly well." Ice practically danced in the air as his words passed through it. Jackie shook her head and stepped back, aware she'd gone a little too far.

"Okay, sorry for the nerve-hitting. C'mon, let's get going."

They left the break room in awkward silence and went their separate ways. Richard shook his head at himself as he headed towards his room in the west end of the Terrance. He knew he shouldn't have reacted like that. He also knew that, should the same situation arise again, he'd respond exactly the same way.

If there was one thing you learnt fast here, it was how to push thoughts out of your mind, and Richard changed his focus to the far more pleasant thought that he'd actually be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. _That_ was a rare pleasure.

As he started on the last set of stairs before his corridor, he made a mental note to check when he awoke to see if his survivals tally had gone up again, but that was all the thought the most recent Serena got. She wasn't his problem anymore.

He had enough of those already.

---

Consciousness slowly filtered into Sam's mind, bringing with it a series of realisations. Firstly, her entire body hurt like hell. Second, she didn't have any recollection of falling asleep – or passing out, whichever was more accurate – or, for that matter, anything other than a lot of fog in memory of what happened _before_ that. Judging by the softness of her surroundings, she was also in a bed.

Thirdly…she'd just thought of herself as _Sam_…

She rolled the thoughts over in her mind for a while. She felt…odd. Not _ill_, aside from the constant ache, just…odd. Her brain skipped strangely from thought to thought, as if it had lost the file cards to her memories and was having to sort through poorly-labelled drawers to find what it wanted. There something…missing, almost. It was like a sudden cession of a constant background noise, noticeable more by its absence than it ever had been with its presence.

Actually, now she thought about it, it wasn't just her mind that felt off-kilter.

Carefully, half afraid any suddenly movements would only serve to further accentuate the steady throb encircling her, she eased her eyes open. It took a few moments of blinking before she managed to focus, and even then the view was hardly worth it. Ceiling plaster wasn't exactly an enlightening vision. Although it did mean she was out of the basement. She sat up slowly and let her gaze wander across the room. It was a small bedroom, furnished sparsely with probably third-hand furniture, although it was all in good condition. Since the movement produced no particularly adverse reactions, she risked straightening up completely, and switched her attention back to herself. She was clad in an unfamiliar long white T-shirt, and-

_What the-?_ Her eyes widened in shock and she gripped the material, wrenching it over her head hard.

_Where the _**hell**_ were her _**breasts**_?_

Automatically she leapt upright, ignoring the protests from her muscles, and scrambled over towards the thin mirror hanging on the opposite wall. What she saw prompted a small yelp of shock to escape her lips. It was several minutes before she was even able to accept what her eyes were telling. Her body was…_different_. There was significantly less of it, for one thing. The curves that she had once considered one of her best features were gone. Her waist had thickened, her bust reduced by at least three cup sizes, she seemed to have lost several inches in height. Her hair was still waist-length, but for the first time she could remember it was half-tangled and unruly, small bits sticking out a weird angles where she'd been resting on it. It was also significantly less golden, and there were tiny hints of almost _brown_ near the roots!

She…she looked…

…like a slightly skinny fourteen-year old, actually.

That was weird in itself – she could remember having a deep, unshakeable believe that she was twelve. Right now, however, that belief was as deep as a puddle and shaken all but to pieces. It wasn't the only thing either, she realised as she thought about it carefully, she was having difficulty picking out _any_ really crystal recollections. A few hazy, unfocused images rose across her mind; of green-inked parchment arriving by golden owl, followed by a set of memories so blurred it was as if they'd happen behind frosted glass. Picking a wand – selected by it producing what seemed to be a glowing pink horse-shaped cloud; personal robe-fitting in every colour but black; visits to what was either a ballet school or a stylist – the fuzzy pink and mirrors could have been either – and something _very_ hazy with a glass globe and deep, scratchy voice. She also dimly recalled having a cat somewhere along the line, although the only clear memory that seemed linked to it was of oily smoke and an unearthly shriek…

…wait…

She remembered –

**-Flash-**

_It was like staring into twin rings of some strange kaleidoscope- shades and colours rose, swirled and faded as she watched, his stare rippling from green to blue to grey to a dozen shades between and back again._

**-Flash-**

Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as the world span away before her and images loomed like monstrous shadows through the fog in her mind. She remembered –

**-Flash-**

_"You know about werewolves, Veela, vampires, right? In some ways very human. In others, very not._"

**-Flash-**

She felt her knees give way and sank down onto the carpet, seeing nothing past the whirling, rising images. She _remembered_ –

**-Flash-**

_"You're a Mary-Sue. And believe me, that's going to be the **least** of your problems."_

She remembered_…_**Richard…**

Deep inside her mind, something gave, and suddenly the mental fog pulled away. Not from around _before_, that was still as hazy, but suddenly everything from the Station onwards hit her at once. The platform, the attack, _Richard_, escape, confusion, the Terrace, Jackie, Kate, and over it all a terror like nothing she even recognised, a dark, _angry_ fear not her own yet invading every second of memory, infusing it with the terrible dread she'd felt since _those_ words.

_"You're a Mary-Sue_."

She didn't understand, but _something_ had changed, something missing from her mind. Something that had felt such mortal terror at the sight of the sporks.

She was, or at least had been, a Mary-Sue.

What was she now?

Speckled, apparently. Sam's gaze traced down the arms outstretched infront of her, propping her up, and this time she noticed the marks. Stretched out across her body was a web of tiny red marks, as if she'd been jabbed repeatedly with thick pins along every inch. _Every_ inch, a hesitant touch could feel the marks on her _eyelids_. Was that what had happened in the cellar? The memories from there were…abstract. A heavily gloved hand, silver and pain were the only easily identified concepts, and Sam felt no desire to examine them any further. Some things were probably best left forgotten.

Right now she was here, she was alive, and she was going to have to make the best of it. If Richard could be believed, and she somehow felt he could, she wasn't entirely human, everything she once thought true was not, and the only answers could come from this Terrace of people…like her.

In all honesty, she was surprised at how – relatively – calm she felt about all of this.

What she certainly _was_, however, was cold. Sitting in front of a mirror naked was not a thermal activity. She glanced round for the shirt she'd thrown aside, and noticed the dresser set against the opposite wall. Three piles of material were on top of it, so she made her way over and examined them cautiously. They all looked about her size – now – but the actual constituents of the piles were very different. The first seemed to be entirely constructed of garish, painfully bright pink material with yellow smiley faces and poorly-printed kanji scattered over it. Sam didn't even attempt to pick anything up – it was entirely possible pink _that_ bright would burn – and transferred her attention to the next set. That wasn't much better, and looked like it belonged to a rather morbid business girl who'd had an accident with a rivet gun. After several minutes of trying to work out how the mostly-black-string top would actually fit onto a human, Sam gave up, and glanced with apprehension at the next set.

Actually, they weren't too bad. Plain jeans, underwear, a blue rugby shirt and a pair of trainers. Fine. As she pulled them on, she was dimly aware of something in the back of her mind noting that this was about as far away from her _normal_ style as possible. Her gaze caught on the wounds pricked out down her arm and she shivered. Maybe that _was_ no bad thing.

A light knock on the door cut abruptly through her thoughts, making her jump and spin around as a scarlet-capped head appeared round the frame.

"Hey, great, you're up." Jackie pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside without waiting for a response. She glanced round and nodded with obvious approval.

"You're doing well kid."

Sam eyed her apprehensively. Sure, the extremely-redhead had seemed nice enough before, but she was still wary. Her – if it _was_ her – previous panic and only _mostly_ subsided.

"How so?" She muttered nervously, starting to knot her unexpectedly unruly hair out of her eyes. Anything to avoid Jackie's unnervingly friendly gaze. The older woman grinned broadly.

"You're conscious, you picked something sensible to wear and you're acting half-human. That's good, no, that's _damn_ good the day after a full sporking. We've had 'em curled up in the foetal position for weeks, unable to adapt to losing the Influence. You're pretty strong for a Serena."

"I'm Sam now, aren't I?" Sam was impressed how steady she'd managed to keep her voice. It was true too – she _couldn't_ apply 'Serena' to herself anymore. It just…didn't fit…no, that wasn't quite strong enough. Her mind actually rebelled against the idea of using the name, her thoughts clinging almost desperately around 'Sam'. It was weird but, frankly, nothing compared to the rest of the overall bizarreness of her situation.

Jackie was still talking; something about 'recent survivals', but Sam wasn't taking it in. Her mind was buzzing and every strand of thought was tied inexorably, to the one urgent, _insisting_ question. She took a deep breath.

"Jackie?"

The red-haired woman paused mid- sentence and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"_What the hell is going on?_"

-


	4. Revelations

Disclaimer to the Mary Sue Classifications list for the reference used in this chapter.

Chapter 4

Sam held Jackie's mismatched stare, struggling very hard to keep her cool. Her fists were clenched and pressed almost painfully hard into her sides and she could feel her lower lip twitching. She wanted _answers!_

With a quiet sigh, the redhaired woman moved over to the bed and sat down. She patted the duvet next to her and offered a smile.

"This might take a while, and I doubt you're used to shoes without a three-inch heel yet."

Sam kept standing. She didn't want to be distracted.

"What's going on?" She repeated, less instantly this time, "Where am I? Who _are_ you all? What-?"

"Whoa!" Jackie held up her hands in front of her face, expression one of mock horror, "Slow down, I only have one pair of lips! Right," she patted the bed again, "Please sit down? Seriously, I know what I'm doing, it helps."

Somewhat reluctantly, Sam nodded and moved over. She dropped down onto the bed as far away from the older woman as possible whilst still occupying the same furniture, and eyed her warily. Something in the back of her mind had calmed down enough to note that Jackie presented a far more…groomed appearance than many of the women she'd seen so far. The brilliant red hair was short and carefully styled, her clothing well fitted and simple. She was also the only person Sam had seen so far that was actually wearing nail polish, in a smooth black that matched her equally dark attire. For a moment the second pile of clothes available earlier flashed up in her mind and Sam couldn't help but glance over at the dresser.

Jackie noticed the stare, followed it, then grinned again.

"No, that stuff isn't mine."

Sam suddenly turned back; wondering if she'd just made a mistake.

"I didn't-"

"Don't worry," she waved a hand, "I'm used to the comparison. Usually happens when I get to the 'try and avoid dressing, acting in any way or continuing any hobbies that may be prone to aggravate your Sue' part of this talk. Well, I used to dress like an explosion in a ketchup factory, so a little of No.7 black is permissible."

"Oh." Sam paused, and then something Jackie had just said twanged at her mind. One of the Questions swirling around her brain was suddenly thrust to the front and she couldn't stop herself from blurting it out.

"What d'you mean 'your Sue'? I thought…I thought everyone _was_…"

"Right," Jackie settled back, "Jackie's Big Book of Bizarreness, Section one – Mary-Sues, their nature and habit. You're right in one respect, you _have _a Sue. I have, Kate has, Richard has, although Gary-Stu is used for the male version, everyone here has a Sue. But no one in the Terrace _is_ a Sue. You," she gently poked Sam in the forehead, "are _you_, your Self. The bit that isn't Sue, and that's the bit we're interested in."

Sam blinked.

"I don't-"

"We don't really know what Sues are," Jackie continued without even acknowledging the break in conversation, "Well, not entirely true I guess. You do see them, sometimes, very briefly at the end of a sporking when the host body dies. You've seen the smoke?"

She didn't need clarification of _that_. The memories that involved the greasy, grey-brown fog stuck out clearly in her mind, even in the blurred areas. Jackie caught the slight nod and reached out gently, tracing the puncture wounds down Sam's neck.

"It's like Sue blood. This'll have _billowed_ when it was done. You see it when the Sue itself is hurt and that doesn't happen unless it's in full control, fighting back or exposed. We've only ever seen one able to exist independently of a host."

"When you say _host_…" Sam asked nervously and couldn't stop her brain throwing up thoughts of tapeworms. Jackie gave a tight smile.

"Yeah, I mean this," she tapped her chest, "The form you find one in. Sometimes it's nothing more than an organic shell, no Self, nothing beyond the Sue, but sometimes there's another personality in there. That'd be you and me. We're not sure if the Self is some leftover from a person the Sue took over or not – they _can_ do that, we've seen a few direct infestations, but more usually there's no record of the individual before the Sue appears. It's impossible to _predict_ if there is anything more, you need to engage directly. That's what the Terrace is for. We hunt Sues, bring in the ones with a residual and neutralise the ones without."

There was silence for a moment as Jackie stopped talking, giving Sam time to take in what she'd just said. Sam used the time to gawk at her. This was…this was…

Believable, actually. The yawing gap of confusion in her mind was hardly being filled by the summarised answers, but there were at least some hints of what she was looking for. Jackie caught her gaze.

"A lot huh?"

"Um…yeah…"

The older woman grinned.

"Tell me about it. I'm one of the lucky ones; I didn't get all this in one massive chunk. Tell you what; you ask me any burning questions, then we'll take a break and see if we can start getting you settled in. I don't want to tell you everything in one go; it'll be too much. So," she folded her hands and pointed them at Sam, looking down at her as if over invisible glasses, "Go."

"Er…" It wasn't that she had nothing to ask. Narrowing it down to discrete questions was the tricky part. She took a few calming breaths.

"Okay," _here goes_, "When…when Richard, um, picked me up, he…he seemed surprised I hadn't _interacted_ yet. What did he mean?"

Jackie tapped her fingers together thoughtfully.

"You didn't speak to anyone?"

"No."

"Then he was probably surprised because for once it made his job easier," Jackie grinned at Sam's surprised blink, "Yeah, I read the report. Compared to some of the things he's seen, you were _easy_, kid."

For some bizarre reason, Sam found herself feeling mildly offended.

"Why is that easier?"

"Because no one on the Station would have been able to see you."

Sam stared at her. She ran the sentence through her mind a few times, but it didn't miraculously start making any more sense.

"Er…say that again?"

"No one could see you," Jackie's grin widened, "It's weird, but until a Sue Interacts, to the rest of canon they don't exist. We can see them because a Sue can sense another, so if you let the Sue into your eyes, it'll show you."

"But someone saw us!" A memory rose across Sam's mind, one she'd almost forgotten in the wake of everything else that had happened, "I…I didn't see who, but someone was shooting at me! Richard sa-" She stopped, a weird jolt running through her. She hadn't realised…but it was painfully obvious now.

'_Who'd you think was trying their hardest to spork you to the train? You're damn lucky I'm fast, girl!_'

Richard…had saved her _life_…

Jackie leaned forward, her mismatched stare glittering with a sudden intensity.

"Believe me, kid," she said softly, "You're not the only one."

More silence.

"Who were they?" Sam asked quietly, trying to keep the shake out of her voice. Jackie sat back again and breathed out, sweeping a hand through her shock of hair.

"Small, rather obscure branch of the Ministry that've gotten a lot more funding recently. They've known about Sues for a long time, but the last few years they've actually formed a specific division to deal with them. Before you ask, no, we don't work with them."

"Why?"

"Mostly because their first action would be to kill us," Jackie answered simply. At Sam's look of shock, she gave a small, slightly bitter laugh.

"Sues aren't classed as human. That means anything goes – Unforgivables, restricted weapons, the whole shebang. Official classification is a Threat to Intelligent Life, which has a terminate on sight recommendation."

"What about the, the things you just said?" Sam was almost surprised at the desperation in her voice, "Like us?"

"They don't even see the division." There was a clear edge of disgust in Jackie's voice, "If there's a Sue inside, that's all they see. We're on our own."

"Why?" Sam blurted out suddenly even as Jackie opened her mouth to continue, "Why all this? Why are Sues a threat?"

Jackie's expression solidified. She suddenly looked very serious.

"Because a Sue doesn't just affect its host. It's parasitic on the canon, the _reality_ around it. People it interacts with become under its Influence, start acting how the Sue wants them to, regardless of their own personality. The more it has under its thrall, the more power a Sue has, the more fall to it and the harder it is to fight. If it goes on too long victims' minds will break down. They act erratically, only consistent in obedience to the Sue, then the _real_ insanity sets in. Lucky ones die. I've…_we've_ never seen anything beyond the second stage. The Terrace is here to make sure we never do."

"Oh."

It was all she could think of as a response. What did you _say_ to something like that? Sam watched the carpet for a while, mostly to avoid Jackie's gaze.

"So…what did Kate do to me?"

"Suppression sporking. Shifts control from the Sue to the Self, basically by injuring the Sue so badly it's forced into a kind of hibernation."

Her next question was the one whose answer she was dreading.

"What happens to me now?"

"Now?" Jackie glanced down at her watch; "We go see what's available for breakfast. I'm starving, I guess you must be too. Sporking takes a lot out of you."

"That's not what I- "

Jackie waved a hand, cutting her off.

"Yeah, I know. You'll shadow me for a few days, 'till you find your feet a bit more, and we'll try you out on a few things. Plus you can start some of the basic lessons."

"Lessons?"

The redhead laughed.

"Of course! The average age we get Initials at is fifteen and you'll find a lot of what you used to know will be rather…scrambled, so you need teaching. Basic spellwork, wards, physical defences, basically everything you'd be learning in a school plus our own more specialised sections. Control and recognition of Sues, your own and others, use of Sue power without yielding control, history, categories and how to deal with them, and later you'll have a chance to learn how to use these." Jackie's hand went down to her waist, flipping open a thin black pouch that Sam had assumed was a phone case. Silver flashed. Sam automatically shrank back as her companion raised the spork up to eye level, the light glinting on the razor tips. Jackie put it away again quickly and shrugged.

"You won't have to worry about that for ages though. Only about a third of anyone here is qualified with these, Richard is rather strict about use. Now," she stood up and made an over-theatrical display of dusting herself off, "Let's go bug the kitchens."

Sam straightened up to follow, a weird mix of relief and disappointment bubbling through her at the end in the questioning. On the one hand, she'd already learnt _far_ more than she wanted to know about this…_thing_ apparently living inside her. On the other was a list of her own questions that stretched out over the horizon, and all Jackie's talk had barely started to answer them. Still, there was an equally large gap somewhere in the region of her stomach, so food certainly sounded like a good idea. An odd thought struck her and she hesitated.

"Um…Jackie?"

"Uh-huh?" Jackie turned, leaning on the doorframe, and raised an eyebrow, "What's up?"

"I…er…don't remember what I like eating."

The redhead grinned and was suddenly next to her, wrapping an arm round her shoulders as she steered her towards the door.

"Ah, then it's a voyage of self-discovery as well as a meal. There's usually cake, that'll be a good place to start. Oh, and a word to the wise," she span Sam round to face her, expression suddenly serious, "Don't take the Pepperjack cheese. It's been in that fridge for _years_."

It turned out that the Terrace kitchens provided a large variety of food and, as predicted, everything except the cheese was perfectly edible. Somehow, every taste was new. Sam could remember eating – slightly – but not in any great detail and not anything specific. She guessed it would take a while for her tastes to establish, so for now she decided to try everything she could. It made for a rather strange meal – though if Jackie noticed she didn't comment on it, and seemed quite happy to help herself to the items Sam sampled. She continued to talk between bites, somehow managing to avoid either interrupting the continual flow of conversation or choking. It was actually quite impressive.

Sitting at one of the many tables in the bustling kitchens, Sam could feel a little of her tension fade. If you overlooked the fact that each passing face wouldn't look out of place on a Parisian catwalk, the intermittent flashes of green light as someone materialised in the fireplace and the occasional occurrence of pointed ears, it was reassuringly _normal_. Not that she had any real idea of what 'normal' entailed, but this seemed close enough. Jackie kept away from any specifically Sue-related conversation and instead spent most of her time talking through the kinds of things she'd be seeing in the next few days. Kitchen work, starting classes, tour of the interior and a few aptitude tests, apparently. Nothing too intense, which was a relief. She didn't think she could deal with anything else weird this soon.

Jackie swallowed her last bite and licked her lips.

"I think cake may be my most interesting vice. You done?" she gestured to the empty plate infront of Sam, who nodded. Jackie scooped up their dishes and, balancing them skilfully on her forearms, transferred them over to a nearby sink, where they promptly began washing themselves. As she turned back, a new voice rose over the low bustle of the kitchens.

"Hey, Jackie!"

The redhead glanced up. Threading her way across the room towards them was the notebook-wielding Japanese girl who Sam had met when she arrived, now armed with a large clipboard. She made her way over to them and leaned on the table, sighing.

"Phew. I swear everyone is conspiring to be at opposite ends of this place today."

Jackie grinned and held up her hands in mock defence.

"Don't look at me, I wouldn't dream of getting in the way of the Admin."

"Yes, we are truly to be feared," the girl rolled her – purple – eyes and raised the current clipboard, "I'll need your phone Jackie, time to charm them up again."

Jackie nodded, ticked herself off on the sheet and handed over a sleek black rectangle. Sam watched the girl pocket the phone and tick something else.

"Okay, you should get it back by tomorrow morning. If you really need to contact anyone before that we fixed the Alcoves last week. Don't suppose you've seen Mara?"

"Try Scanns."

"Thanks," the girl tucked her pen behind her ear and nodded to them before headed back through the tables. Jackie glanced over at Sam, who was frowning.

"What's up?"

"That's a _small_ mobile…"

The older woman laughed.

"Yeah, not quite as brick-sized as the current market versions, eh? First one turned up with an Initial about three years ago. I'll let you in on a little secret," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "There's more technology in a lightbulb. Entirely charm-run, the signal's linked in to the Floo Network. Good, huh?"

Sam stared at her.

"You mean you invent things?"

"Not me personally," Jackie shook her head, "And it's more adaptation, rather than design for the most part. _Puella moderna_ tends to come complete with unusual possessions. If we can use them then they go to the lab."

"_Puella moderna_?"

"Type of Sue. The Jennys have been working on a classification scheme for two years, but there are a lot of grey areas. The only truly universal aspects are Influence and spork vulnerability, even the ocular cycle isn't always there. I haven't got one," she batted her eyes and grinned, "Makes optician's appointments considerably less complicated. Now, you feel up to a short tour?"

Sam did. They left the kitchens and Jackie launched immediately into tour-guide mode. The ease with which she reeled off information and answered most questions before Sam had time to ask them gave the impression she'd done this before. A lot. Sam didn't mind. The hurried glimpses she'd seen when she arrived hadn't even been half of it. This place was _huge_. The name 'Terrace' turned out to be a literal description – the building had started off life as a long, Victorian-style row of terraced housing, but had been heavily modified by both magical and Muggle means. There were certainly more levels than predicted by the outside view, and lots of rooms seemed to exist from the inside but not occupy the space outside they should have done. After a while, the endless corridors did start to blur somewhat. Rooms turned into hallways, stairs into walls and some areas, such as the pyramid-shaped room that contained a huge staircase and fireplace really, really shouldn't have been able to fit in a two-room thick terrace. By the time they got back to the kitchens, Sam's feet were aching and her head throbbing from her futile attempts to lay down a mental map. Jackie's half-laughed advice 'not to think too hard about it' wasn't massively helpful.

There were lots more people in the kitchen by then. A glance at the cheap plastic clock fixed above one fridge told a surprised Sam that it was far later in the day than she'd expected. Their walk must have been longer than she'd thought! She followed Jackie to a small side table and was furnished with some biscuits. Around them, the women laughed and joked with eachother as the scent of cooking food filled the air. Jackie nicked a biscuit and grinned.

"Lunchtime chaos. You should see tea – fewer sandwiches, more mess. So?" She laced her fingers together and leaned forward on them, "Now you've had a nosey, what'cha think of our little madhouse?"

Sam picked her words carefully.

"It's…interesting. In a good way," she added hurriedly, "I mean, it's strange, and…well…"

"Interesting?"

"Um, yeah…" She hesitated, "So…what happens now?"

"Now? I – Well, well!"

That was a quick change of subject even for Jackie, and Sam immediately swung round to see what she was looking at. She felt her heart skip a beat as she focused on the tall figure that had just emerged from the doorway. Richard didn't seem any less intimidating with Sam's new world-outlook either. Even the fact that he was yawning heavily as he approached the most heavily laden table did little to decrease his presence. That probably had a lot to do with the fact that table was only one away from them, and Sam suddenly became very interested in the wood grain under her elbows.

"Wonders will never cease," Jackie muttered, "Look who's lowering himself down to our level."

"Word of advice Jackie?" Richard didn't even look up and began filling a plate, "When exercising your sarcasm muscle, turn off the tour-guide volume."

"C'mon, give me a little credit," the redhead scoffed as she shifted her seat aside, making space on her left for another chair, "I have a _drop_ of subtlety in my soul."

"When I see it, I'll believe it." Richard finished loading up his plate and, to Sam's combined shock, horror and amazement, made his way over to their table, swinging a chair round from an adjacent place as he did so. Sam swallowed a quiet squeak and automatically shrank back in her chair, making a futile attempt to blend into the wallpaper. Richard didn't even seem to acknowledge her at first and continued talking to Jackie but, after a few minutes the chatter stopped and Sam felt his gaze fall upon her. She really could _feel_ his attention, as if the stare had actual physical force behind it. After a moment of squirming on her suddenly uncomfortable seat, and after deciding that the earth really wasn't going to come to her aid and swallow her whole, Sam looked up.

It wasn't as bad as she'd imagined. Sure, once Richard's gaze locked with her own she couldn't find the willpower to break it, but… This time it felt far less imprisoning than before, the intensity edged more with curiosity than contempt. For the briefest of seconds, some odd expression flickered in the back of his –currently– dark eyes, then the paralysing aspect of his stare vanished and he nodded slightly.

"So you did make it. Ups my tally at last."

At that, Jackie snorted.

"Yeah, because you _really_ need help staying at the top."

"No." He broke his look with Sam to shoot an odd glance at Jackie. Neither seemed about to elaborate on the look and Sam took the opportunity to cough nervously as she searched her brain for words. The earlier conversation was nagging at her; she had to say _something_…

"Um…M-Mr Richard? Sir? I-"

"It's just Richard."

Sam gulped at the correction and it took a fresh jolt of mental pressure to make her continue.

"I…I just wanted… _Thankyouforsavingme!_" With that, she sat back, cheeks burning, and renewed her interest in the woodwork. Richard gave a small sound that may have been a soft laugh.

"Don't worry about it."

Sam felt the attention on her lift as the two older occupants of the table began talking to eachother again. Her heart was still hammering away against her ribs, but the beat had at least become less erratic now. Maybe-

"Richard! Thank Merlin!"

Any more of Sam's thoughts on the previous subject cut out as she automatically craned her neck toward the shout. The Japanese 'Admin' girl was back again, but her demeanor was very different this time. Obvious panic had replaced bureaucratic concern on her features, and she was ploughing her way desperately through the kitchen towards them. Richard blinked and raised an eyebrow.

"Chris? What's the matter?"

The girl skidded to a halt by the table, waving a clipboard through the air so wildly she only narrowly avoided taking the tip off a nearby observer's ear.

"We've –_gasp_- got a –_gasp_- problem!" She managed between heavy breaths. Richard's stare visibly cooled.

"I am off shift, for the first time in-"

"Luce hasn't reported in since she went out! That was _yesterday!_"

"_What?!_" Suddenly Richard was on his feet, snatching the clipboard from the girl's unresisting fingers, "No word? It's supposed to be six hours maximum non-contact before an alarm goes off!"

"W-well," the girl – Chris? – stuttered, "It would, I mean, for anyone else…but _Luce_, she's just below you…"

"Exactly," Richard shoved the clipboard back at her with a low growl, "_Below_ me. What the hell is Kate thinking?"

"I-I-" the girl took a step back, her head bowed, and stared at the floor. Sam could see why – all trace of the less intense, less_ scary_ Richard had vanished again. Every eye in the room was fixed on him as he straightened up, pinning Chris with a dark stare she seemed unable to meet.

"I…I don't…she said to get you!"

"And I will be having words about that after I find Luce," said Richard grimly as he swung his outer robes back into place and thrust the clipboard back at Chris, "She was on a train pickup, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"I'll find it."

With a loud crack, he was gone.

---


	5. Responsibility and all that jazz

[Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this so far, it is very much appreciated.]  
[Also, apologies for the switch to use of -x-x- as a scene or POV change. I can't seem to be able to get --- to work properly at the moment. It will be rectified when I figure out what I'm doing wrong.]

Chapter 5

Sometimes, Fate had rather too much taste for dramatics; Richard mused as he swept sodden hair out of his eyes for the hundredth time. His robes had long been charmed for water – and other, less pleasant substances – resistance, but even that was under strain from the veritable cloudburst that was currently endeavouring to wash him off the landscape. His dark gaze swept across the landscape in before him. He'd Apparated in atop a small hill, railway tracks strung out along a raised bank to his left, their dull glint just visible through the storm's gloom. There was an open area of grass at the side of the track, but he couldn't see anything else.

"_Lumos_."

Light swept out from his wand, turning the rain into falling silver needles and scattering strange shadows across the ground. Richard's sharp eyes scanned again and this time they found something. He centred his beam on the barely visible glint and headed quickly towards it, slipping and sliding down the sodden grass. Mud sucked at his feet as he squelched over to his goal, periodically having to stop and renew his water-repelling charms. Even so, by the time he got there he was soaked to the skin. He bent down and brought his wand closer to the ground. It was as saturated as the rest, but here there was something other than mud slicked across the grass. Thick, silvery liquid was shimmering in the _lumos_ glow, bright even through the grime.

After a moment's contemplation, Richard stuck his spork in it. The liquid immediately began to bubble and blacken, losing its sheen as it dissolved back into the mud. He swore quietly and stood up again, trying another visual sweep of the landscape. Now he was closer, the glow from his wand picked out more spots of silvery fluid and he headed towards them. The frequency, and size, of the patches increased as he continued, roughly proportional to the mounting difficulty he had with movement across ground that increasingly resembled a battlefield. There were deep grooves torn into the earth, now filled with rain, and all the groundwater was tinted with the same shimmering substance as before.

"Luce! Luce, can you hear me?"

No response. Richard tried again, this time enhancing his voice in an attempt to be audible over the howling wind, to no avail. He was beginning to get seriously worried. The devastation and the silver slime pointed very squarely to one possibility, but… Something else wasn't right. Even if it had been one of _those_, Luce should have been able to handle it. She was _good_, she was damn good. Her and Darek were the best he'd trained, even a U-

He was dragged out of his thoughts as his foot encountered something distinctly _not_ mud. Richard felt his eyes narrow as he looked down, and his gaze locked on the thin figure half-submerged in the wet earth by his feet.

It was the Sue. What he'd originally taken for more of the smeared silver turned out to be a mass of faintly luminescent hair spread out around her. Richard did a quick, practised assessment. Young, early teens, stupidly thin, disproportionately endowed chest-wise and with softly glowing, silver-white hair. Mostly basic, except for the fact that both red and silver blood was caked around the deep wounds that covered her body. This one must have put up quite a fight…

An unpleasant thought struck him and Richard knelt down, keeping his wand warily pointed at the Sue as he did so and, very carefully, checked for a pulse. For a few moments he couldn't find one. When he did, his frown deepened. The heartbeat was there alright, and regular, but it was incredibly weak. Her breathing was the same, shallow, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. It _could_ just be the effects of exposure – she'd clearly been here for some time, but…no, something just wasn't _right_ here.

Richard cast a quick bind, then levitated the prone Sue into the air behind him. This kind of obvious resistance should have entailed an immediate sporking, but something really, really wasn't normal about this, and he wanted to know what.

Well, he'd found the Sue. Now he had to find Luce.

A fresh glance around showed that he was getting near the railway line again, and that the occurrence of silvery splotches was decreasing, so he doubted she was around here. Okay. He _knew_ Luce. One thing at least would be near her.

"_Accio wand_," he murmured. To his relief, a moment later a familiar thin piece of wood sailed out of the gloom into his hand and he immediately set off in the direction it had come from, shining a double _lumos_ in front of him. The twin searchlights swept the ground, illuminating pools of silver, torn, sodden earth and finally –

"_Luce!_"

He dropped down next to his student's battered figure. She looked terrible. Cuts and bruises covered any skin that was clear of mud; a large section of her blonde hair was half-torn away and there was a long, oddly groove-like wound etched down one arm. Her ribcage was an unusual shape too, and even over the noise of the storm Richard could hear the painfully laboured sound of her breathing.

At least she _was_ breathing.

Richard quickly stripped off his still-charmed outer robe and wrapped the girl in it. At the same time he checked her own sodden clothing and felt an extra surge of relief as he found what he was looking for and pulled it free. A tangle of toothpick-thin wood and fine material, tied together with string. Good thing Luce always came prepared – Apparating back carrying these two would be impossible.

He untied the bundle and tossed it to once side, muttering the required charm. The tangle twitched and unfurled in the air, then fell to earth as it assembled itself. A moment later what looked like a narrow, man-high, three-walled tent stood slightly lopsided in the mud, green flame flaring into existence inside the thin shelter. Fitting, really – if he remembered right, the one-shot fireplace had arrived with Luce in the first place. They were tough to make and for emergency use only, but if _anything_ counted as an emergency, this was it.

Richard straightened up and turned to deactivate the levitation on the Sue still floating behind him. She hit the floor with an undignified splat; but that wasn't what suddenly caught his attention, making him squint through the rain. In the distance, tiny blobs of light were visible, bobbing along the line of the track. A Ministry Squad. Not surprising – with the amount of power that must have been fired off here even those idiots couldn't help but notice. Richard felt his lips twitch into a momentary, tight smile.

"Too late boys. Far too late."

He turned back to the spluttering emerald flames – the one-shot would disintegrate immediately after use, so he didn't have to worry about _that_ – and went to pocket the wands. He'd need both hands to carry Luce _and_ the Sue.

Suddenly, he hesitated, Luce's wand still gripped tight in his fingers. The condition of the Sue, the extent of the battle here, the overall _wrongness _of everything…there was one possibility. He didn't have much time though. Luce needed medical attention very quickly – it was probably only her Sue's more specialised characteristics that had kept her alive so far, but…he had to _know_…

He felt his eyes shift, darkening with his mood as he raised the wand.

"_Prior Incantato_."

-x-x-

Sam had the distinct impression she'd been forgotten about. The same moment Richard had vanished, Jackie had pounced on Chris' clipboard, studied it intently for a few moments, then started to try and calm down the clearly-shaken Admin. The redhead had then vanished into the midst of the kitchen chaos, with a sharp order of 'stay here', leaving Sam sitting by herself at the abandoned table. She'd been there for a while now, and was just beginning to consider trying to find her way back to her room when a mirror above the fireplace suddenly crackled. Every point of attention in the room shifted on it as what look like TV static formed in the glass. After a moment the image resolved into Richard's face. His expression was, as usual, very closed, but there was something approaching urgency in his eyes. He also looked like someone had tipped a bathtub of water over him – there were even droplets running down the screen.

"Get the medi-team! _Now!_"

The two women nearest the fireplace seemed to hesitate, but before they could do anything Jackie was suddenly next to them, pulling them forcefully away as green flames caught up in the old range.

"Tell Elsa to get ready!"

"What about-?"

"Forget the clearance! _Go!_"

The women nodded and fled out the door so fast they almost blurred in the air, leaving a wide clear path through the crowd of people. Jackie dodged back so she was standing on the edge of the fireplace, her wand drawn.

Sam realised that she was holding her breath. For a few stretched out, eternal seconds, nothing happened. Then the flames roared, sparks flying out across the room as a whirling shadow formed in the fire, before Richard stepped out of the emerald inferno. Water cascaded off him, thick with a combination of mud and soot, and instantly formed filthy rivulets on the floor under his feet. His hair was plastered down so far it looked as if the top of his head had been tarmaced and thick mud was caked up his body as far as his waist.

He was carrying two figures. One, a young girl with semi-luminescent, knee-length silver hair, was slung unceremoniously across his shoulders like a bad rucksack. The other older, less ethereal one was in his arms, wrapped in his cloak and seemed to be the main focus of his attention. Both girls were covered in angry-looking wounds, under the veneer of sodden earth, and blood joined the spreading pool beneath them. Richard crouched for a moment, unceremoniously shrugging the younger girl off his shoulders onto the wet tiles. He straightened up and strode towards the door, ignoring his former burden as he swept wetly past Jackie, who looked faintly surprised. She waved a wand over the girl and levitated her towards the door, following the damp footprints.

As the door swung shut behind them, the odd silence that had descended vanished as the room erupted in a dozen loud discussions. Sam couldn't single out any one conversation from the swell, but a few overall themes were clear enough.

The Terrace was worried. That seemed strange in itself. After everything she'd seen so far, the reactions she'd encountered when she'd first arrived, it was odd to see anyone here actually look phased by something. What on earth had happened?

-x-x-

By the time Jackie caught up with him, Richard was almost dry. Now they weren't under constant deluge the charms on his robes were working overtime. It meant he was leaving quite a trail of muddy water as it was repelled away from him, but he ignored it. Luce was shivering violently in his arms, even under the now-dry robes, her lips blue with cold.

"C'mon Luce," he muttered so quietly that even Jackie, hurrying along behind him dodging puddles, couldn't hear, "Don't give up on me now."

There was no response and a dark edge of thought eased into Richard's mind. No, she was just unconscious, even if-

No matter. He forced the thought aside, returning his attention to walking and his expression to its usual scowl. Jackie kept trying to talk to him and it took a lot of effort to ignore her. Long-practised steps carried him quickly through the corridors to the set of interlinked ground-floor rooms that had long been the Terrace's Infirmary. He planted a solid kick on the doors and they swung back with a dull crash.

"If you had less of a flair for dramatics Richard, I would see you here far less often." The crisp, clipped, _clinical_ tones of Elsa, the Terrace's blue-haired, intellectual medi-witch, rose to greet him. Richard met the violet stare.

"It's Luce, not me. My best guess is she was up against a Unicorn, amongst other things…"

Elsa's eyes widened as she saw the figure in his arms. She drew her wand and waved it at the opposite wall, where two trolleys immediately detached themselves and rolled over. Richard carefully laid his burden down on the first one, and glanced back in time to see Jackie levitate the other limp figure onto the second. Elsa hurried forward and ran an assessing gaze across Luce, then nodded and turned towards the other trolley.

"Don't bother."

The bright-haired woman glanced up at him, looking surprised, and he shrugged in way of reply.

"It's a shell, nothing more."

Elsa's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed as they always did when anyone questioned her on a diagnosis.

"I have to _try_, Richard, even if-"

"The last thing Luce cast was the Patronus Charm," he said quietly, and at that the medi-witch went quiet. She swallowed hard.

"If you would wait outside?"

Reluctantly, Richard complied. He glanced back at the prone figure still swathed in his cloak and tried to push the doubts out of his mind. She was in good hands now. He'd seen Elsa perform minor miracles a hundred times. There was no reason this time would be any different.

No reason but one…

A hand dropped onto his shoulder and Jackie swung herself round so she was infront of him. Her face was pale.

"A Patronus? You're serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Richard snapped, shrugged off her hand as he leaned heavily on the wall, resting his forehead against the cool surface. He really wanted to yell at Jackie, vent some of the angry frustration swirling round inside him, but it would be pointless. She'd done nothing.

He'd done nothing. That was the problem.

"She should never have been out there," he muttered, "I should've handled it."

Jackie blinked at him, surprised.

"What are you talking about? You weren't even here when-"

"I know that!" He glanced towards her, eyes narrowed, "But I should have been! Look what I _was_ doing."

"Hey," Jackie matched his stare; "You got the only successful pickup in four months!"

"Easily. Too easily. I should have-"

"And - ?" Jackie's voice was suddenly very quiet, with an odd edge to it, "- what happened the last time you came up against Dementors?"

There was a moment of very heavily silence. Richard glared at her.

"That was a long time ago. And I did better than _that_," he gestured towards the closed door, feeling a pang of guilt as he did so. Jackie echoed his unspoken thought.

"Not by much. Listen," she caught an arm round his shoulders and squeezed lightly, "I'm gonna go tell Kate what's happened. You're staying?"

"Yes. Until…" he briefly fought himself for the words before continuing, "…until I know. Then I shall have a _word_ with Kate."

Jackie nodded and straightened up, unconsciously wiping dried mud off her arm where it had touched him.

"Okay. You might want to get changed, or I doubt Elsa will let you back in. Oh!" Her hand flew up to her mouth for a second, eyes widening, "I forgot about Sam! Hope she hasn't wandered off…"

"Just go already." Richard turned; fixing his attention squarely back on the door as his friend darted away. He toyed with the idea of peering in through a crack, then discarded it. It wasn't Luce's actual _injuries_ that were worrying him. She'd survived worse before – it would take some rather specialised equipment to actually kill her, thanks to her Sue's particular delusion – but…

Dementors.

Richard felt an involuntary shudder run through him, and Jackie's words rose again across his mind. The Terrace had only faced those _things_ three times, including this one, and the last time…if he'd been on his own…

He shook himself. That had been four years ago. Things were very different now.

Right now, it looked like he was going to be in for a long wait. He spent the next few minutes applying scouring charms across his body, unwilling to leave for long enough to change, and then settled down against the wall, head resting on his forearms. After a few minutes he found himself nodding slightly and sat very deliberately back upright. This was stupid, he'd only been _awake_ for a few hours, and he'd slept over twelve last night! Fitfully, though, he would admit. He was used to strange dreams, but the most recent set of unconscious cinematics had been weirder than usual. If he were honest, that was far from good news. Sleeping was when you had the least control…

_Focus_. The issue here was Luce, not him.

It was a long wait. Some sound filtered through the doors, indistinct, voices, the sound of cupboards, the dull scrape of trolley wheels on floorboards. Several times Richard stood up and almost went inside, before forcing himself back down against the wall again. Jackie returned after a while and sat next to him, surprisingly quiet, as they both feigned intense interest in the plasterwork. Richard was just starting to nod forward again when the door suddenly opened, spilling light into the corridor.

"Richard?"

He jerked upright, shaking off sleep, and scrambled to his feet as he met Elsa's gaze. She was very pale, and he felt his stomach give a lurch.

"Is she-?"

"She's got nine broken ribs, a fractured femur, concussion and she's lost a lot of blood," the medi-witch gave a tight smile, "But she's stable now, and sleeping. She's a tough one."

"Always has been." It took a lot of his self-control not to sag slightly with relief. Jackie let out a sigh.

"You're good Elsa."

"I try," Elsa hesitated for a moment, then shook her head, a strange expression flickering across her face, "But… You'd better see." She turned back into the room, holding the door with one hand. Wordlessly, they followed her.

It was obvious what they were supposed to be looking at. There were two sets of screens set up along the far wall, one drawn, one open. Richard swept over to the visible trolley and looked down.

The Sue had been cleaned up and her visible wounds dressed. Richard regarded the blank face. She was a bit younger than he'd first thought and by now…different. Her hair had lost most of its shimmer, more a dull grey than silver now, her skin an unhealthy pallor rather than pale, and the overall form seemed less perfect, like a smudged drawing. She _was_ breathing, but very shallowly. Carefully, Richard reached out and rolled back her eyelids.

He let them close again almost immediately.

"Nothing."

"Not even Sue," Elsa said softly, a clear shake in her voice, "There's nothing. Luce is just unconscious, but _this_…"

"Sometimes I hate being right," Richard muttered.

"We could take her to St. Mungos," suggested Jackie, "They're usually discrete."

"Can we risk that?" Elsa bit her lip; "I mean, she's not exactly _normal_ and with no thrall…" She trailed off. There was a very long silence.

Richard looked down again at the empty shell of Sue.

Then he shook his head.

"No, we can't. I'll handle it."

"But Kate-"

"_And_ that."

-x-x-

Richard slipped through the curtain surrounding Luce's bed, feeling Elsa's glare drilling into the back of his head as he did so. She wasn't happy about this – what he'd just done or what he was about to, but she was at least co-operating. There weren't many other options. All the same, he'd only been granted five minutes.

He crept quietly over to the narrow chair by the bed and sat down, allowing his gaze to scan across Luce's still form. Elsa had done a good job. Minor wounds had been sealed, larger ones dressed, and there was a set of coloured potion bottles set out along a shelf behind the bed. There was also a drip feed of something purple and shimmering feeding into her left arm. She looked so peaceful he felt a pang at waking her, but five minutes of conscious Luce would be considerably more helpful. He gently laid a hand on an un-bandaged part of her shoulder and shook lightly.

"Luce? Can you hear me?"

It took a while before her eyelids flickered open. One lid only moved halfway – even Elsa's salves could only cure so much bruising – but after a blink she focused on him and her lips curled up slightly. The expression was little more than a muscle twitch, but it was a start.

"…hey…" The words came out as a croak. Richard reached out, dropped a hand down over hers, and offered a rare grin.

"Hey. I hear you had an interesting night."

Luce's face twisted in a grimace.

"You…ever tried…to fight…a bloody…_unicorn_ animagus…with a dozen…Dementors…baring down…on you?"

"Only at weekends."

_I was right then_, he thought.

"Hah," she gave what might have been a short laugh, "Stupid…bint… Wasn't quite…as affected at first. Absurd enthusiasm…would've driven…everyone insane in a week…"

"You can tell me fine print later," Richard squeezed her hand, "Like when you've got the normal number of ribs again."

Luce managed a small smile.

"Looking out…for me…boss-man?"

"You've told me enough. Go back to sleep Luce." He half made to stand up, but she caught his arm weakly.

"Richard? The Sue…she-"

"Kissed."

"Oh." Luce slumped back. She was silent for a moment.

"…thought so. Lucky kick, caught me in the chest. Dementors…all over the train…she yelled she was…going to save Potter…or something. Charged after them. I fired…a patronus…don't think it worked…"

"Boundless-enthusiasm, unicorn animagus?" Richard raised an eyebrow, "Dementor ambrosia. I'd give her thirty seconds, tops."

More silence.

"So…you…?"

"Yes."

Even more silence. Richard gave her hand one final squeeze and stood up, turning away.

"Get some sleep Luce."

"…you're…going to get…angry…aren't you…?" Her voice faded out as she slipped back into sleep. Richard glanced back at his recovering student and felt his eyes darken.

"Possibly."

-x-x-

"_Kate!_" The shout rose up like a wave, crashing down and cutting out the usual noisy chaos of Scanns. Forty pairs of eyes suddenly became intensely interested in their owners' shoes as the furious black tornado swept across the room, heading with deadly precision towards the raised platform. It slowed and the swirling cloak flung aside to reveal Richard's seething form as he bore down on the stairs. His eyes _burned_, brilliant amber and oily black fighting for dominance of his irises as the Glare – worthy in every way of the capital letter associated with it – surged across the room, people fairly leaping out its way to avoid breaking the line of sight.

"Everyone out!" Richard snarled, one hand arcing round as if trying to physically sweep the room clear. Something in the combination seemed to work as Scanns emptied like it had sprung a leak, and by the time he stormed up the steps the only sign of earlier occupation was a confetti-scattering of hastily-discarded biros. Kate hadn't even moved, and continued to run her fingers lightly across the ornate table infront of her. It took up easily a third of the main platform space and housed what was unofficially known as the Suescope.

She did finally look up as Richard slammed his palm into one of the switches, sending a dark wave surging across the writhing patterns under the wide glass inset.

"A gentler touch would work better."

"I want a _word_ with you," Richard snarled. Kate pushed a few more switches and the screen went grey, before she turned to face him, her expression infuriatingly calm.

"I thought you would."

"You _thought?_ A bit late to try new things isn't it?"

Kate gave an exasperated sigh and matched his glare.

"She got the Sue, she did everything she was supposed t-"

"She should never have been out there!" Richard drew himself up, although it had little effect – he and Kate were matched height for height, glare for glare, "What the hell did you think you were doing? Sending _Luce_ out unmonitored? I thought you had more sense!"

"And I thought you had more faith in your students!" Kate shot back, glaring at him as her own ire rose, "In case you forgot Richard, _you_ picked the levels!"

"Even _I_ would have reported in from something that high risk!" He growled. Kate gave a sharp laugh.

"Yeah, _sure_ you would. There's always an element of unknown on any pickup, you _know_ that! I trust our Field teams to be able to handle whatever arises."

"_Dementors?_" Richard's fist slammed into a nearby bookcase with force enough to dislodge a shelf; "_I_ should have handled that! I should _never_ have given you more Field control!"

Kate sighed. She stepped round the table and, very gently, laid her hands on his shoulders. She held his gaze.

"I know you're angry. I also know Luce isn't you, but she _is_ a damn fine Field operative. No one knew what she was going to be up against, but she handled it magnificently. You _might_ have waltzed in, driven off the whole pack and sporked unicorn-princess to smoke. Or you might have gained as many broken bones as she did. It's irrelevant. You're the best Richard, I know that better than anyone, but even you can't be everywhere at once."

"I know that," Richard snapped, shaking off her hands, "I –" He stopped. There was a moment of silence, broken only by very measured breathing. Finally, Richard looked up again.

"I know that," he repeated, calmer this time, "I just…"

"…don't like to see any of our little misfit sect get hurt," she finished, cracking a slight smile, "However much you may snap and snarl at them."

Richard couldn't prevent his lips from twitching slightly and he sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm on edge," he muttered, shooting an accusing glare at the Suescope, "There's something big building, I can _taste_ it, we're that close. I can barely remember Serena, unicorn or 'elven' activity levels this high _singly_ before, and we've never seen so much together. Or with such lack of guise – Sam's the only one who's had anything even resembling a personality for months."

"I had noticed," Kate gestured around at the room with a wry smile, "This stuff isn't just for decorative purposes."

"What d'you think? Black escaping, Dementors in the school –"

"We've already checked that for Sueage, it's clean."

"Okay," he conceded, "I agree, something's building in _canon_ sure. But there's something else."

Kate shrugged.

"All we can do is monitor. It's probably just a reaction to something canonically important, but if it isn't we _will_ spot it. Trust me."

"I always do." Richard finally conceded and managed the ghost of a smile. Kate returned it, in her usual fleeting way, before her expression iced back to business-like again. She moved back over to the Suescope and re-activated it, passing her fingers in complicated sweeps across the surface. Richard waved a hand towards the door, which swung back open again and exposed a wall of anxious faces. The Scanns staff began filtering cautiously back in, still shooting worried glances up at the stage.

Richard started to make his way towards the door. Sometimes he hated how Kate knew exactly how to diffuse him. He still wasn't happy about Luce, but…it could wait. She _was_ safe now. Although he was going to keep a very close watch on any new callouts, particularly those near Hogwarts. They'd known Dementors had been brought into the school, but turning up on the route…

His thoughts cut out after he'd taken a few steps as Kate's voice suddenly captured his attention again. He turned back, not quite believing what he'd just heard.

"What?"

"The new girl," Kate stared at the Suescope thoughtfully for a second before she turned, throwing a hard glance over her shoulder as the room filled up around him, "Let her meet Serenity."

"Serenity?" Richard said sharply and frowned, which quickly turned into a scowl, "No. She's not stable enough for that yet."

"I won't argue with you, Richard," Kate turned round and leaned over the rail, holding his gaze, "I want some proof the kid won't crack. If you won't take her I'll have Jackie do it."

There was another moment of heavy silence. Then Richard leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"I'll do it. But," he stepped even closer, lowering his voice, "Don't forget who you're talking to, Kate. I will _not_ be ordered around."

Kate leaned in to meet him.

"Consider it a request."

"I'll consider it a favour." Richard stepped back, "But you owe me."

"I always do," a slight smile twitched Kate's lips and she straightened up, turning back to the queue of people hovering nervously around the steps, unwilling to move any closer but doubtless straining to hear every word. They parted like a biblical sea as Richard strode through them and closed again behind him, the usual controlled chaos of Scanns settling in anew. He ignored it and stalked towards the door, fuming slightly. He got the impression he'd been outmanoeuvred – not unexpected, he and Kate were always locked in a battle of wills over anything that encompassed both their main spheres of influence – but this time he wasn't exactly sure why. He _could_ see her point – if there was one way to test stability it was an encounter with Serenity, but he was still hesitant.

He just hoped the kid had found some Self by now.

-x-


	6. Serenity

Thank you to all reviewers, all feedback is welcome

Chapter 6

A month. Richard thumbed through Chris' Admin report on Sam, scanning each neatly printed page as it flicked past. The girl was doing well; he'd give her that. Over a month in and, aside from the continual streams of 'what?' and 'why?' – which unfortunately seemed part of her character rather than a Sue effect – she appeared pretty stable. No breakdowns, no hissy fits, no sporking failures and associated very loud, very public l33t incidents - _that_ one had been fun – and the new addition of a relatively normal-looking kid was a relief. He'd been more than sceptical at first, seeing the over-developed pre-pubescent larva he'd pulled off the station, but Kate knew her stuff. The girl wasn't completely typical of her age and there was a suspicion she'd grow into more siren features, but for now it would be useful to have another member capable of interacting with normal humans without drawing too much attention.

That was not, however, what was concerning him. He snapped the file shut and glared at the grey cover. He'd delayed for five weeks, waiting, keeping a closer watch on Sam than he had on any Initial for a long time. He'd been looking for any really solid reason _not_ to expose the girl to Serenity.

He hadn't found one. Other than his own reluctance to let anyone else near that thing, and Kate was making no secret of her impatience. There was something about her attitude on this was irking him, grating across his nerves like a saw blade. It was possibly that she was ordering him around. If _anyone_ else…

_Focus._

Richard pushed the file away from him and leaned forward, chin resting on his fingers. Kate wanted the girl to see Serenity. He couldn't stall anymore, or she'd get someone else to do it and _that_ was something he couldn't allow.

Then there was the other problem. Or rather the lack of it. It hadn't just been the need to keep an eye on Sam that had kept him in the Terrace for five weeks. The last month had seen no Sue activity. At all. All the Field teams were back in, alternating between teaching the Apprentices and milling around trying to find something productive to do. He'd never seen anything like it, particularly after the incredible levels they'd had before. It was ridiculous. Sure, Sueage levels usually oscillated, often in response to the Hogwarts term schedule and they did decrease after a major event, but… To his knowledge, they hadn't had one. There _was_ a massive; looming sense that they were due, but he'd never seen this kind of build up before.

_Like a wave_, his gaze slid across the room until it reached the shuttered window and arced out across the rooftops opposite, unseeing, _the water draws back into the really big ones before they hit._ He really hoped that wasn't what was happening. Considering the stuff they'd seen before, he did _not_ want to think about what could be so big in comparison.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be the only one reluctant to think about it. Kate was all but refusing to acknowledge the change, and there were a lot of false smiles and forced cheerful comments of 'a bit of relief' and 'space to breathe'. The one cliché that hadn't been trotted out much was 'calm before the storm', which was probably the only one that was relevant.

Right. Priorities. He stood up abruptly, scooped up the file ready to be thrust back on the first Admin he came across, and headed for the door. Sitting around brooding on possibilities wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd have another talk with Kate after he'd brought Sam back up from the cellars. Hopefully still sane.

-x-x-

A month. Sam glanced round at the mildly-controlled chaos of the break room and settled back into the squashy sofa to enjoy a rare moment of relaxation. The last four weeks had been the busiest of her life. Well, okay, so they made up the longest period of time she could actually remember with any detail, but the point held. She'd been shifted from section to section every few days, shadowing a different person each time. In fact, the only areas she hadn't been introduced to were Scanns and Field, and it had been very clearly explained why. Her mind drifted back to one of Jackie's responses, when she'd asked nervously if she'd have to do anything in the Field.

-"You won't go anywhere near Field for a long time."

"Why?"

"There's the question," the redhaired woman smiled slightly, "Well, first off, you gotta be fast on your feet, very good with a wand, even better with your mind and be able to hold your own in a fist fight. Plus you've got to qualify for a grade two spork before you can even try out, and to cap it all you're under Richard. If he doesn't think you're good enough you've got no chance and his standards are nigh-on impossible to reach."

Sam blinked.

"Why's it so hard?"

"Because Field is hard," Jackie replied sharply, "Even after all that we lose people. Not all Sues are as easy to bring in as you were. We've seen vampires, werewolves, ninjas, part-**anything's**_, Elementals, Elves, Angels, death-ray vision and Unicorns, which are a lot less ethereal and a lot more highly condensed, spiked cavalry charge when you're face-to-face with one. And _**they**_ were the ones we could classify. Dealing with unleashed Sues isn't something you do lightly."-_

Scanns was apparently similar – you needed a certain level of 'clearance' before you were even allowed to go in there, initial arrival not included. Sam wasn't exactly sure what 'clearance' entailed, but she _was_ quite sure that either way, it would mean she'd have to spend more time around Kate and, or, Richard – neither of which was that appealing a prospect. They were both scary, but Kate seemed easier to avoid. She'd been bumping into Richard a lot in the last few weeks, although bumping into anyone at the moment was getting easier – the Terrace seemed to be considerably more full than when she'd arrived. It had also become clear that Richard himself was in a minority. Even after a month she'd only met two other Stus – a shy blond youth called Kipling maybe a few years older than she was, and Darek, a dark-skinned Stu in Field who appeared at seemingly random intervals, consumed an inordinate volume of coffee and didn't speak to anyone.

In fact, with the exception of Richard's strange eyes and Darek's communication problems, the Stus seemed more…well, _normal_, than their female counterparts. So far, the characteristics of many sharing her gender had made Sam feel considerably less odd. There were extra eyes, arms, pointed ears, all colours of eyes and hair, and in one case what Sam had initially assumed to be an extra _person_. The Jennys – the pink-haired twins she'd first seen in Scanns when she'd been brought in – were unusual even by Terrace standards. She'd shadowed them for Admin a week ago, and was a little disconcerted at first – she'd never come across two people who were absolutely identical before. They didn't just finish eachother's sentences, they had a tendency to work like one individual in two bodies, passing quills, parchments, printouts, books and all manner of objects between four hands as easily as two. Whatever you told one, the other would know if you spoke to them later. That was assuming you could _tell_ which one you were speaking to. They even dressed alike.

For a while, Sam flirted with the notion that there really was only one Jenny, who somehow managed to have two forms at her disposal, but Jackie had shot that idea down when she'd voiced it.

'No,' she'd laughed, 'Although it can seem like it at times. There's definitely two of them, we checked. They're _extremely_ twins, that's all.' She hadn't elaborated further, and after a while Sam found herself getting used to the situation.

Right now, she was waiting for Jackie. They'd taken to meeting up at least once a day when Sam wasn't assigned to her so she could voice whatever questions she'd developed over the day. There were normally a lot of them, and Jackie answered each one in relation to a sliding scale of 'need to know'. Some things, such as more details about Scanns, or pre-spork backgrounds of residents, got very short answers, whereas discussion of lesson syllabi could take hours. Sam didn't mind. She'd have plenty of time…

Her musing cut short as, across the room, the door swung open and revealed a tight-lipped Jackie standing in the corridor. She looked paler than usual and hesitated noticeably before entering the room. Sam sat up quickly.

"What's wrong?"

Jackie didn't answer, but as she stepped aside suddenly she didn't need to. Sam's gaze locked with the twin points of black emerald the move revealed, and she felt her stomach give a weird lurch. Richard tilted his head very briefly in the ghost of a nod.

"Come with me." With that he turned and vanished back into the corridor. Sam jumped to her feet, skirted a magazine rack, and went to follow, glancing automatically at Jackie as she passed. The redhead flashed a rather forced smile.

"Good luck." The strained edge in her voice was enough to make Sam's stomach give an unpleasant lurch. Breaking the eye contact, she stepped into the corridor and looked round. Richard hadn't gone far and was waiting for her a few metres away. He moved off wordlessly with long, determined strides that seemed to radiate a sense of worried annoyance. Sam kept quiet as she trailed after him. She didn't think she could have done anything to get on his nerves yet – aside from possibly evoking the usual irritation at her presence – so she found herself searching her mind for possibilities.

She hadn't been the direct focus of Richard's attention, on her own, since she'd arrived. It was still unnerving, even when walking behind him.

After a few more steps, she coughed nervously.

"Where are we going?" It was meant to be a faux-casual inquiry, although it came out as more of a squeak.

"Cellars."

That seemed to be all she was getting. He didn't even turn round and Sam frowned. She knew the Terrace _had_ cellars – the vaulted room she'd been sporked in had screamed subterranean – but other than that she'd heard nothing about them so far.

What was in cellars anyway? She had a vague impression of coal, maybe boxes and general…well, _stuff_. Storage. Why did she need an escort, let alone Richard, to go there? Jackie had looked so worried…

No immediate answers presented themselves, so Sam contented herself with trying to recognise their route through the winding corridors. Her nerves were little soothed as she realised she didn't recognise anything. She usually navigated by using the pattern of lamps, artwork and bookshelves, but this way was new.

Eventually Richard flung open a seemingly random door and hit the lightswitch inside, illuminating a narrow set of stairs. Cool air flowed up past as they descended, and even with the bulbs strung across the roof Sam had to squint. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as they continued in silence, but the view was as unhelpful as the darkness had been.

The Terrace's cellars were indeed full of what was best described as 'stuff'. There was a similar feel down here to the rest of the building – of a large space produced by the sledgehammer-mediated fusion of many smaller rooms. If anything it was _more_ sprawling, with tunnels and antechambers stretching away into the shrouding gloom. Crates, haphazard stacks of cardboard boxes and old furniture in varying states of repair were crammed up against the walls, leaving a thin clear path between them, lit by dim cones of electric light. Richard threaded through the channels with practised ease and Sam hurried after him, following more the sound of his footsteps than the dark figure before her, who seemed to blend with the shadows a little more than was strictly necessary.

Puzzlement rose up through her apprehension. There just didn't seem to be anything here, other than the boxed-up debris of everyday life, so why-?

So suddenly that Sam let out an involuntary yelp, Richard stopped and turned, a gloved hand snaking out and latching around her arm. Sam was swung bodily round and pushed into the side of an old wardrobe behind her. The pressure wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her pinned. In the dull light, Richard's eyes _gleamed_ as he leaned closer, until their faces were only a few inches away.

"Who are you girl?" he growled, an edge of threat skirting his words and Sam automatically jerked back, cracking her elbows on the solid wood behind her, mind whirling. What the…?

"I-I'm Sam! Wha-?" she cut off as Richard shifted, catching both her arms this time in grips so hard she swore she felt the bones creak. The eyes above her gleamed again…and then she felt it, a strange trickle of thought rising from the back of her mind. Who was she? She'd known _that_ all along, of course, and besides, that _silly_ acronym was _hardly_ fitting for-

"No!" she snapped, wrenching her arms free as her fists balled, defensive, aimed at both the accusing stare and the whisperings in her mind. She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts, and managed to hold Richard's gaze.

"I'm _Sam!_"

For a moment Richard didn't move. Then suddenly his lips twitched in what might have _almost_ been a smile, and Sam felt a jolt of shock as a hand clapped her very briefly on the shoulder.

"Keep that in mind," he said softly and turned back into the gloom. Confused, Sam stared after him. She had no idea what _that_ had been about. Although she was quite sure she didn't want to be left here alone – the shadows loomed too much – and hurried after him.

They didn't have far to go. The cellar ended abruptly in a series of hollowed archways, the largest of which contained a door. It wasn't a subtle door, all bolted steel and rivets the size of bottle-caps, and the only bit of decoration was a raised block of metal with a slit in the centre. Richard reached into his robes and drew out a thin silvery shape. The spork glinted briefly before it was inserted into the slit and twisted like a key. A series of heavy clunks echoed dully, then Richard pulled the spork free again and planted a hand squarely on the door. Sam had expected an ominous creak, but it swung open with smooth oiled silence.

"Watch yourSelf," Richard murmured and stood back, leaving the open doorway yawning before him. Hesitantly, Sam moved forward. Each step seemed strangely reluctant – she had to think quite hard about each movement before it would come, as if her knees were trying to be somewhere else. She eyed the gloom beyond, half feeling as if she was going to be swallowed up by the darkness. That particular fear dispelled as Richard muttered something behind her and a dozen old carriage lamps around the walls sprang into light.

Whatever she'd been anticipating, it wasn't this. The room illuminated was large, roughly triangular and almost completely empty. Aside from the lamps, the only object inside was at the far end, taking up the entire far point of the room. Sam stared at it, even more confused. It looked like a giant crystal ball, half as high again as an adult, resting on a large hexagonal metal stand. It was glowing softly.

It also seemed to be getting bigger, and it took Sam a few moments to realise that was because she was heading towards it. There was still a resistance in her muscles but it seemed muted now, fading with every step she took towards the globe. That had to be a good thing, surely…

"…Sam? Hey-"

She barely heard the voice. Her attention was riveted on the towering glass sphere infront of her. It seemed to be filled with a glowing, oily grey fog, but the contents were far from still. Patterns swirled in the mist, fading in and out of view, passing through eachother, never still long enough for the brain to decide what they were. Dreamily, Sam reached forward, letting her fingers slide across the glass as she watched the fog-

-and nearly fell over in shock as it was suddenly looking back. Twin points of slanted, bright yellow light had materialised and were undeniably staring at her. She jerked back, letting out a small gasp of shock as she did so, and suddenly the air was filled with a literally bubbling laugh. It sounded like someone sniggering into a submerged microphone. Sam took a step back as the fog whirled and condensed, resolving itself into a humanoid shape around the glowing eyes. The figure formed was clearly female, oddly proportioned, but female. Were it solid enough for gravity to have taken an interest in it, no-one that top heavy on such thin limbs would have been able to stand upright. The edges of the shape weren't quite defined, alternating between solid and fog so fast they looked almost to be boiling, particularly around the tendrils of hair. Serena had heard – and used – the term 'flowing' to describe hair but until now she had never seen any that could really boast the description. _This_ figure seemed to be teetering on the edge of dissolving.

The eyes gleamed even brighter and a thin line appeared further down the blank, mannequin-like face.

"I don't suppose they gave a new girl like you my key, did they?" The figure's voice was as strange as its laugh, and sent shivers dancing down Sam's spine. The eyes gleamed even brighter, swirling…she couldn't turn away…

"Still, you could get it for me-"

"Leave it out, Serenity." Richard's voice cut through the fog rising around Sam's mind and she jumped as a hand dropped onto her shoulder. The pressure brought her crashing back to reality and she shrank back from the glass. There was another round of the strange laugh and the misty figure resolved further, leaning forward.

"Dear Richard," it purred, "Still playing the Knight in Shining Armour routine, are we? How _is_ your job abducting little girls going?"

Richard's lip curled, his eyes flickering to something that looked dark red in the strange light.

"Fine, thank you," he sneered, "How _is_ life in a snowglobe?"

"Could be better. I couldn't persuade you to help with that?" Somehow, the figure gave the impression of batting its eyelids.

"Not a chance." Richard turned back to Sam and jerked a thumb at the glass, "Meet Serenity."

Sam stared at the figure, who waved sarcastically.

"Wh…what…?"

"She's a Sue," Richard said quietly, "The only one we've come across able to survive outside a form."

"Yes, I'm quite the celebrity," the figure – Serenity – smirked through the glass, "Darling Richard here can't stay away from me."

"You wish."

There was more to the exchange, but Sam didn't hear it. She was too busy being torn somewhere between shocked and terrified. Her gaze was riveted to the ghostly figure opposite. _That_…was…a Sue?

"I…I've got one of _those_ inside me?" It came out as a croak. Both Richard and Serenity glanced over at her, breaking their shared glare. Serenity reacted first and swirled up against the glass opposite.

"Do I _scare_ you, little girl?" she slid her palms slowly down the glass, as if caressing it, and giggled coquetteishly, "Do I send _shivers_ down your spine? Tell me I do."

Sam swallowed hard, trying desperately not to look at the glowing eyes. It wasn't easy – her body seemed to be trying to look up against her control, and it was taking a lot of effort to keep staring at a piece of flooring. A fresh giggle echoed, and suddenly Sam's head jerked up as if on strings, her gaze swinging up to meet Serenity's. The yellow light blazed into her, sending unpleasant ripples of a pins-and-needles-like sensation dancing along her nerves. Her world shrank until those eyes occupied everything and beyond.

The moment froze.

After what seemed like an eternity, very slowly, Sam became aware of…no, not a _sound_ as such, more a silent echo, the space left in the mind for words to fit into.

Somehow, it _purred_.

_'Bringing a Serena? Tsch. I'd say he was losing his touch. Or she is. Ah, the ever impenetrable twin fortresses. Ultimate prize really, to crack that. Imagine what could be _**done_…'_**

Sam felt her teeth grind together with effort as she forced her own thoughts into words. _Get…out…of my…head!_

A laugh rose, although she couldn't tell if she were hearing it with her ears or not.

_'Quite a persistent little residual, aren't we? Odd for a Serena. Now _**some** _people would have it that was a good thing. Myself? Oh, I'd say there are more amusing things. Like _**this-**

Pain crackled across her mind, squeezing like a vice and Sam struggled to cry out as invisible fingers jabbed at her brain, raking through her like claws. Memories span in front of her eyes – the Station, the sporks, the Terrace, _Richard_. Lots of Richard. A snigger echoed through her skull.

_'Hero worship, blind terror. Draw a line.'_

_Get away from me!_ Sam thought furiously, but it was getting harder to pull coherent lines together. The strange voice pushed ever inward, and she could feel something trying to react in the back of her mind, pushing the other way. She felt caught between them, pressurised, crushed… Panic reared. _Get out! Get OUT!_

_'Make me. **Serena**.'_

Something snapped. Sam felt her fists clenching, determination born of fury pulsing into her thoughts, clearing some of the rising fog. Why all this crap with her name? If she wasn't being questioned about it then someone was using the wrong damn one! She was _Sam!_

_Get-_

Her fists balled tighter, nails digging into her palms but at least she could _feel_ that, the pain something tangible to focus on.

_Out-_

The mental vice began to loosen as the second, more internal pressure started to retreat. Sam turned as much of her focus as she could back on the intruding voice, aiming every thread of spiralling thought she had into one effort.

**_NOW!_**

The moment broke. The world flooded back and Sam's knees buckled, all the strength drained out of her as she crumpled backwards. She didn't get far, strong hands locking around her shoulders almost instantly and pulling her upright. As her thoughts condensed again she suddenly realised she was staring into another pair of eyes, these not glowing but darkly green and, for a moment, deadly serious. Then Richard's gaze softened and he straightened up again, squeezing her shoulders.

"Sorry kid," he murmured, "That was a little sooner than I'd intended."

"It…it's okay…" Sam gulped at air, trying to stop her hands shaking, "I…I mean…you said, about my name…"

"I know. You did well."

"What _is_ that thing?" Sam got her composure enough to aim a glare at the silent figure behind the glass. She could still feel the strange pull, but it was dulled now. Richard gave a cautious shake of his head.

"Like I said. Pure Sue. We've never figured out how she survives, and we've never seen another like it."

"I'm just _special_," Serenity's blank features threw a glowing smile again and she gave an overly-theatrical bow. Richard snorted and he leaned closer.

"Special. Freak. Draw a line."

Sam blinked at the phrasing, but a quick check of Richard's features revealed nothing. Not that they ever really did.

"Why did you bring me down here?"

She hadn't intended to speak, but the question just slipped out. He didn't have chance to answer before Serenity giggled again.

"Orders of She Who Must Be Obeyed, one thinks. Dear Richard, such a _lapdog_."

"If you do not shut up, I will kill you," Richard responded calmly, and turned back to Sam. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, something flickering in the back of his eyes.

"Call it Trial by Fire." He paused and gently began to steer Sam towards the door, "Wait outside."

Relief washing over her, Sam scurried for the exit. There was a large handle on this side of the door and she pulled it open. As she slid through she could feel two stares fixed on the back of her head.

The door slammed shut behind her.

-x-x-

Richard watched the girl leave, mixed emotion running through him. On the one hand, that had gone surprisingly well. Serenity had gotten in damn fast, true, and Sam's Ocular Cycle had been going crazy for a few minutes, but she'd thrown it off by herself. He made a quick mental note on that point – in a few years, when she was ready, he'd have to see about checking her _Imperius_ resistance.

On the other hand…

His eyes narrowed. She should _not_ have had to do that. It wasn't-

A fresh laugh cut his thought. The sound was high, tinkling – the kind of sound shattered glass would make if it sang. How he loathed that noise. Slowly, he turned back to the spherical prison. Serenity was watching him, radiating amusement.

"The quality of your little pets is dropping," she said sweetly, tossing her gassy hair from side to side, "Why would you surround yourself with such pitiful creatures? Got a thing for lost causes?"

"Can't you diffuse quietly for once?"

"Seriously Richard," Serenity yawned and stretched, cat-like against the glass, "How long are you going to keep this up? Such a pointless cause. Disgracing yourself, going against your own kind, for what?"

"You aren't my kind, Serenity," Richard said quietly. He knew not to let her bait him but some things needed to be said, if only to remind himself. The laugh bubbled over him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Oh but I am, and you know it-"

"Shut up!" Richard span round, slamming his fists either side of Serenity's head, and leaned forward until the glass was all that was separating their gazes, "You want to know what _I_ know? I _know_ I can spork you down and rip those congealed exhaust fumes you call a body into so many pieces we'll need a paperweight to keep you in!"

Serenity smirked.

"Ever the romantic, Richard."

"I don't know why I even come here," he growled and stepped back. As he turned away, a childish giggle echoed round the room.

"I do," Serenity's voice took on a sing-song tone, "You think I'll be useful, don't you? Maybe I should be."

Richard whirled back round and shot a glare at her.

"What?"

Serenity's eyes flared brightly and when she spoke her voice

"Beware the puppet master, holding all the strings. A snip, a chop, a little cut; and down comes **_everything!_**" The rhyme ended in a shrieking cackle as Serenity began to spin, strands of fog whirling off her and back into the surrounding clouds, and then all that remained of the distinct figure was a pair of glowing slits.

"See you later, Richard!" Serenity's voice crawled across his ears one last time as the eyes faded back into the fog, leaving nothing but glowing currents in the oily mist. For a few seconds, Richard didn't move, the strange words playing across his mind. Then he shook himself and strode back to the door. He was _not_ going to pay attention to Serenity's mind-games.

He had other things to worry about.

-x-x-

Leaving the cellars always seemed to take half the time it took to enter. Richard noticed how closely Sam was following him this time – tripping over her own feet and occasionally the edge of his robe as she scurried along to keep pace. She looked shaken, which was understandable. For a moment his thoughts drifted back to Serenity, and he shivered. Five years they'd kept that _thing_ down there, and every time he saw it he seriously considered why they didn't just spork her.

It came down to one thing, really. Serenity was the perfect _warning_, in case any of them ever doubted what they were doing. She showed what a Sue really was, beneath all the beauty and sparkles. Sometimes, you needed to be reminded what the other end of the scale looked like.

He sighed and cast a quick glance down at the scared girl at his side. He'd been a bit too hard on her, honestly. She hadn't been a difficult pickup, she'd responded well to the Initiation programs and now she'd encountered Serenity and remained sane.

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, something tugged very lightly at his robe. Richard looked back down at Sam, her face very pale in the dim light.

"R-Richard?" She released her grasp on his arm quickly, as if expecting a sharp rebuke. He regarded her impassively, then let his expression soften.

"What's up, kid?"

"Was that Influence? When I heard that…voice…in my head?"

_Well, at least Jackie's doing her job right_. Richard sighed.

"Sort of. The globe's enchanted, it blocks out everything but a fraction of Serenity's thrall. That's what you felt."

"A _fraction?_"

Richard gave a short laugh.

"Full thrall is worse than _Imperius_. You'd have been eradicated, even after a recent sporking."

Sam went quiet.

_I probably could have put that better._

"You did well Sam. Don't worry about it."

"Why did I have to do that?" Her voice was shaking. Richard sighed again and felt a scowl rise onto his features.

"_That_ is a very good question." He dropped a hand onto the stair-rail and started climbing. He could have elaborated further – perhaps – but he wasn't about to divulge the thoughts he was barely allowing _himself_ to acknowledge. Glancing back, he saw that Sam was staring at him with an odd expression on her face. He tried a small smile, but it was possible his lips didn't react.

"C'mon, we'd better let Jackie's mothering instinct know you're still upright."

It didn't take long to drop Sam back into the charge of a relieved Jackie, although he didn't stay long enough to explain anything. Sam could do that well enough herself, and besides, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

His route to Scanns was surprisingly empty, considering the current in-house population. Apparently he was radiating annoyance again. He barged through the main door, past an Admin tottering under a huge stack of paper, and turned his attention towards the far platform.

Kate was waiting for him, standing with her arms folded at the stop of the short staircase. As Richard strode forward, every head in the room suddenly became intensely interested in their work, computer or fingernails. He ignored them and fixed his attention on Kate.

If ice had been forming on the furniture around her, it wouldn't have been surprising.

She stepped back wordlessly as he mounted the platform, then span on one heel and stalked over to the far side of the Suescope. Richard faced her. From this position, the platform height concealed them from the main room. The seclusion was increased as Kate waved a hand and the air from rail to ceiling briefly shimmered.

"I do not need this reaching unintended ears," she said crisply. Richard raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because hearing me verbally rip you a new orifice would be rather bad for morale." She leaned forward suddenly, slamming her palms into the Suescope table with a thud that echoed, "_What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?_"

"_What?_" Richard felt his eyes widen and pale in surprise. Whatever he'd been expecting to hear, _that_ hadn't been it. He stared at her in disbelief, and in the moment it took for his composure to return Kate was off again.

"After _one month_ you expose an uncleared Initial to _Serenity?_ Have you lost whatever passes for your mind? Imagine what could have happened!"

"Worst case I would've had to get the kid re-sporked," Richard snapped back, "And I thought you'd have known that, since this entire stupid thing was _your_ bright idea!"

"I would _no_-" Kate cut out and her head dropped, blonde hair sweeping around her face enough to hide her expression. After a moment she looked back up, and this time her eyes were grey. Richard blinked. It took a _lot_ to activate Kate's Ocular Cycle. She shook her head, almost sadly.

"It was my idea? To send the girl down after a _month?_ It seems I was mistaken in trusting you with a little of your own judgement. This isn't Field Richard, you can't just spork your way out of bad decisions!"

"She did fine," Richard retorted, "Better than a lot I've seen who went through the usual channels."

"That's not the point! You recklessly endangered – "

"You know what?" Richard straightened up, ire rising, and met Kate's glare with one of his own; "I don't have to listen to this. I'm not one of your little Admin minions and I'll be _dammed_ if you're going to chew me out like one!" His eyes narrowed and he stabbed an accusing finger in her direction. The hand shook slightly as he struggled to stay calm.

"I was against this, and I only took her down there so you didn't inflict the job on someone Serenity can actually affect!"

"Unlike you?" Kate shot back, "You react to that _thing_ more than any of us!"

"When someone nearly kills you, you tend to remember it," he growled, "And when someone exceeds their authority, you tend to notice that too."

Kate's eyes flashed, rippling to an icy silver.

"And what-?" she asked, her voice suddenly very quiet and laden with frost, "Are you implying?"

"That this conversation is over." Richard span round and started towards the steps. Behind him, Kate thumped the table again.

"Do _not_ turn your back on me Richard! I'm walking a knife-edge trying to keep this place functioning! I don't need you and Serena acting against me!"

Richard half turned, shooting one final Glare at Kate.

"Her name is _Sam_. What's yours?"

With that he stormed out, swearing under his breath, and leaving an incensed Kate glowering after him.

-x-


	7. Deja vu

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed – even just saying if you like/don't like it is great. Also thanks to my lovely beta Serenasnape for poking this chapter.

Chapter 7

Meteorologically speaking, it was quite a mild November. Weak rays of fading autumnal sunlight crept in through windows of glass and enchantment, but any warmth they contained went unnoticed. The atmosphere inside the Terrace was decidedly frosty. In confined space gossip spread fast, and it was no secret now that Richard and Kate were avoiding each other. Neither seemed about to elaborate on the nature of their falling-out, and uncertainty is rumour's dish of choice.

If the split in leadership wasn't bad enough, the perceived conflict had begun to spread out amongst the other residents. Jackie had found herself subconsciously recruiting her own small band of peacemakers in an attempt to calm the rising tensions between Admin and Field. She hadn't realised how many of each there were until she'd counted heads huddled together at opposing sides of the kitchen at mealtimes, shooting poorly-concealed glares at each other.

It was like being back at school. Unsettlingly like being back at school actually, when there had been only two sides that mattered and only two leaders anyone could follow.

As time passed, she found herself hanging around with Sam more and more. At first she'd just made sure that whoever the kid was assigned to wasn't involved in the dispute, but as the numbers with that attribute fell, she took on more time herself. Frankly, she wanted to keep Sam as far out of the argument as she could – and it was getting to the point where she was the only one Jackie could have an unbiased conversation with. Kipling wasn't bad – seeming more confused than aligned to either side – the Jennys were as professional as ever, and it was typically hard to determine Darek's thoughts, but the numbers of non-antagonists were dwindling rapidly.

Jackie moodily watched the thin plume of smoke drift up from her lips into the grey sphere hovering near the ceiling. She regarded her cigarette critically. She was getting through a _lot_ of these recently – thank heavens for tooth-whitening charms. It was the stress. At least she had a way of dealing with it – unhealthy thought it may be – but some of the others weren't so lucky. The last few weeks had seen more relapses and sporking failures than they'd had in years, most of them serious. Not just in-house residents either – a significant minority were Field operatives.

_Are we really this unstable?_ Jackie mused, _that all it takes to start splitting us up is one argument?_ Okay, so that was an oversimplification. Richard and Kate had had their fair share of disagreements over the years – with egos like theirs it would be more surprising if they always agreed – but this one was serious, and Jackie couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something behind it, something hidden just out of sight.

Waiting.

She shivered and took a fresh drag. As much faith as she had in her friends' abilities to sort things out, she was worried. What they needed right now was solidarity, and they looked pretty far away from that. She sighed and rolled over, plumping the pillow she was leaning on, and reflected that things must be quite bad if _she_ was seeking the refuge of her room. It wasn't as if she didn't like it – considerably more spacious than the space between the walls should allow, practically wallpapered with photos, colourful drapes and Giger prints. She was just used to feeling this comfortable throughout the entire building.

A thought struck and she stood up, heading for the laden bookshelf that took up almost an entire corner of the room. A large wooden photo-frame was wedged inbetween a stack of Muggle textbooks. Jackie picked it up and looked at the photo – one of the few magically animated ones in her collection – and three small figures waved up at her. Richard, several years ago when his hair was longer, his arms slung playfully around both her and Kate's shoulders, a now all-too-rare grin beaming out from his handsome features. Kate was laughing, occasionally smacking Richard lightly in the ribs for some comment, and Jackie's own visage was glowing with a smile.

Jackie looked at it silently for a while, then sighed as she replaced it on the shelf. Was four years really that long ago? When had things started to go downhill? They'd never had it easy, but it hadn't-

Her line of thought broke at a sharp rap on the door. She turned round.

"It's open."

The door swung open and Jackie blinked at the figure who stepped through.

"Kate?" She flashed a slightly surprised grin, "Hey, I haven't seen you out of Scanns for ages! Come in, I think I've got some Maltesers left-"

"Sorry Jackie, but this isn't a girl-talk visit," Kate sighed, a weary edge to her voice that showed on her features, "Much as I'd like it to be."

"Okay," Jackie said slowly. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gestured to the cushion-piled sofa squashed along one wall, "Don't stand on ceremony for me."

"I prefer to stand."

"In those shoes?" Jackie eyed the slim heeled sandals peeking out from under her friend's dress hem. Kate didn't look down, but twitched her outer robe so it covered the footwear.

"I'll stand."

"I was just -"

"Don't."

Several minutes of awkward silence followed. Finally, Jackie decided she'd seen all she wanted to of her carpet and looked back up.

"So, what _do_ y-" She stopped and blinked again. Kate's robe re-adjustment had left a gap, but the second layer of material wasn't the only thing missing.

"Where's your spork?"

"Hmm?" Kate glanced down at her waist and shrugged, "Must have left it in the cellar."

Jackie frowned.

"That's-"

"Jackie, please!" Kate held up a hand, a strained expression on her face, "I'm…concerned."

"Well yeah," Jackie rolled her eyes slightly, "Everyone's one step away from each other's throats, and-"

"No," the blonde glanced back over her shoulder at the door, shaking her head, "Not that. I'm worried about Richard."

Jackie blinked.

"Pardon?"

"You must have noticed," Kate caught her gaze, her eyes glinting strangely, "He's been acting… erratically, ever since that girl arrived. He's obsessed with the Sueage levels, trying to convince everyone he talks to that there's some kind of Sue _apocalypse_ coming. And this business with Serenity! A month is nothing _like_ long enough before exposure to her!"

"Er…Kate, _you_ asked him to-"

"I expected him to use some sane judgement!"

The snap was so sharp that Jackie recoiled, shock jolting through her. She'd not seen Kate this upset for a long time. She regarded her friend closely.

"Kate…This is _Richard_ we're talking about. I mean, sure he's been a bit, I dunno, _edgier_ than normal, but after what happened to Luce… and you know how he takes everything that happens in Field personally… "

"I'm not an entirely heartless bitch, thank you," Kate said icily, "I understand his concern over Lucy. What I do not need is my second-in-command swooping around like midnight incarnated and spreading paranoid rumours of looming disaster!"

_Second-in-command?_ Jackie shifted position uncomfortably. She was suddenly very aware of the other woman's proximity. This was stupid; it was _Kate_ standing in front of her, the woman she'd worked and fought alongside for nine years. She shouldn't be feeling…_scared_ of her.

She picked her words carefully.

"He's just worried. I don't think it's anything more sinister than overwork."

"I wish I could be that sure," Kate muttered and turned away, expression unreadable. She hesitated for a moment, then turned back and leaned forward so she was looking directly into Jackie's eyes, hands dropping onto her shoulders. Her silvery gaze glinted intensely.

"Nine years. Nine years without sporking, without any kind of suppression other than sheer willpower. You _know_ how extensive his Ocular Cycle is. He uses wandless to turn on lights! Do you have any idea how dangerous he could be?"

"Kate-" Jackie asked, slowly, "What are you asking me to do?"

Kate stood back, shaking her head.

"Just be careful. You've had the most exposure to the girl after him-"

"Sam?" Jackie's eyes widened in disbelief; "You aren't serious, right? She's harmless!"

"An unusually easy pickup, just before all Sue activity ceases? A month in, and she can handle an encounter with Serenity?" Kate's eyes narrowed, "You haven't found this in the least suspicious?"

"Well… No. No I haven't," Jackie met the stare again, determined this time, "She's a good kid."

Kate stared at her for a moment, then straightened up abruptly, her expression icing over.

"Indeed. Aren't you due for your annual re-spork soon?"

"December ninth."

"Make it tomorrow." With that, the blonde span elegantly on her heel and strode out, leaving a mildly shell-shocked Jackie staring after her.

What on earth had _that_ all been about? Well, Richard, obviously, and Sam, but… She'd admit, Richard was on a short fuse at the moment, and the massive plunge in Sueage levels was nearly unbelievable, but even the _suggestion _he might be losing any of his legendary control was ridiculous…

… wasn't it?

-x-x-

The rest of the afternoon was… unpleasant. Jackie had given up trying to keep going with her normal duties – there was little need for a personnel officer when those in question were four steps away from hexing each other into next week – and had resorted to prowling the corridors, spork in hand. She'd had to confiscate a small beauticians' worth of nail varnish, eyeshadow and lipgloss, all in eye-waveringly bright colours, disperse several looming disputes and mark three girls for re-sporking for having signs of developing highlights. This was _ridiculous!_ What the hell were Kate and Richard playing at? The situation was getting worse with every passing hour.

Her one moment of respite was checking on Sam, whom she'd put in with Elsa today. The medi-witch was stressed – even though Luce had been discharged, she was having to deal with various outcomes of mini-fights – but aside from that was in the ever-decreasing minority of people still actually doing their job. Thankfully, the Terrace's most recent addition was still distanced from the rising chaos. She had certainly noticed the animosity, but hadn't been around for long enough to know that it was particularly out of the ordinary. Jackie had decided not to enlighten her unless she specifically asked.

By early evening, Jackie's frontal lobe seemed to be trying to drill its way out of her skull with the aid of something pneumatic and persistent. She opted for paracetamol rather than a more magical alternative – it may be marginally less effective, but at least the Muggle remedy had no bizarre side effects, as was the wont of many magic options. She wasn't in the mood to have anything unusual growing out of her ears today.

She'd retreated to the break room again. There was still a while before her early evening meeting with Sam, but it was quiet in here and didn't give any undue encouragement to the retreating ache. Leaning back, she rested her head on the wall and closed her eyes.

"Long day?"

Jackie sighed.

"Are you about to make it longer?" She looked up at the tall figure standing over her. The shades of dark circles were clearly visible under Richard's currently-grey eyes. He moved into the chair opposite and sat down a little more heavily than usual. Jackie raised an eyebrow at him.

"You look mildly dead."

"And you smell like an ashtray. Let's not get picky."

"Hah," Jackie let her eyelids slide closed again, "What d'you want Richard? In case you hadn't noticed, your little conflict of opinion is-"

"I had noticed," Richard snapped and let out a hissing sound halfway between growl and sigh, "It's all going to hell."

"Can't you try and call off your hounds?"

"I've tried!" The retort was very sharp. Jackie opened one eye to glare at him.

"Don't bite my head off, I was only-"

"I know," Richard sighed again and continued, more quietly now, "I wanted to talk to you. I'm… concerned."

Jackie froze.

Deja-vu…

She eased her other eye open and looked carefully over at Richard. He was staring forward; lips pressed tightly together, his eyes glinting.

"Yeah, well everyone _has_ gone nuts-"

"No," Richard raised his head again and looked directly at her, shaking his head, "Not that. I'm worried about Kate."

Jackie felt the hairs on her neck prickle. She didn't like deja-vu. Or where this conversation seemed to be heading.

"Pardon?"

"She's been acting… oddly. I've only noticed it recently, but it's been ages since I was here for any extended period of time. The stuff with Luce, then the plunge in levels which she's refusing to even react to. She _ordered_ me to take Sam to see Serenity, then tried to chew me out about it." There was a definite growl in his voice on the word 'ordered', and he followed it with a glare at the air molecules.

Jackie shifted.

"She's under a lot of pressure-"

"And I'm not, I suppose?" Richard retorted coolly, "She's never lorded it up like this before. Not with me. We've always been equal, even since… " He cut off and shook his head. There was silence for a moment, then he looked back up at her, his eyes were dark green.

"You haven't noticed anything? Damn. You're the only other one she's close to; she's barely spoken to me outside of Scanns since I've been back. I-" He stopped, and when he continued his voice was very quiet. "I don't know why. We normally… " He stopped again and this time stayed quiet. Jackie waited. She knew by experience that Richard had to reconcile any softer emotions with himself first, before – _if_ – he'd vocalise them. He didn't seem to be about to say anything else, so she decided to find out how far this deja-vu was going to go.

"Is any of this discussion going to involve Sam?"

"Sam?" Richard straightened up slightly and looked at her, one eyebrow arcing upward, "I'm not intending it to." His eyes narrowed, "Why?"

"Well… " Jackie hesitated and suddenly found herself under the full force of Richard's gaze. She decided to risk it.

"Kate's worried about her, apparently. Thinks she got by Serenity too easily."

Richard's expression flickered.

"I know. But I was there, and that _thing_ in the basement has always been more interested in me than anything else in the vicinity."

"And the ease of her pickup?"

Richard snorted.

"A non-interacted Serena? The Ministry squad was more trouble than she was, and you know how incompetent those idiots are. If anything, she was the last normal one we've had in a long time. Now," he leaned forward, eyes darkening further, "Unless I am mistaken, I was voicing concerns to you. Why am I suddenly under inquisition?"

Jackie stared at him, torn. Kate's words echoed in her mind, louder and more _insistent_ every time they repeated.

_'Do you have any idea how dangerous he could be?'_

'You haven't found this in the least suspicious?'

'Nine years. Nine years without sporking, without any kind of suppression other than sheer willpower.'

But that wasn't just Richard, was it…? The black emeralds opposite her narrowed again, and for a moment Jackie's mind super-imposed Kate's silvery eyes on his. How the hell did she deal with this situation?

She finally released the nervous breath.

"Because I spoke to Kate a few hours ago. And she said the same thing about you."

For a brief moment, Richard's face was a mask of shock, and then the usual scowl rose into place. Suddenly, he seemed a lot larger, looming over her as he stood up.

"You'd better not be lying to me, Jackie."

"Why would I?"

He gave a grunt for an answer, making it Jackie's turn to be annoyed. Her own eyes narrowed.

"And you'd better not be suggesting _I_ am slipping."

"How do I know you're not?" he shot back, "This could all be-"

-SLAP-

The sound _echoed_. Slowly, Richard raised a gloved hand to his already reddening cheek. Jackie was on her feet now, face almost a match for hair, shaking with fury.

"If you came here looking for a fight then _congratulations!_ Dammit Richard, if there was any lapse in _my_ control it would be more obvious than a few words out of place! Have you noticed anyone with third-degree burns recently?"

Richard's eyes swirled. Then he turned away, backing down.

"Good point."

"Thank you," Jackie lowered her hand, letting some of the tension leak out of her body, "Now, you, Kate and your shared paranoia aside, what are we going to do about all this?"

Richard rubbed his forehead, suddenly looking tired again now the anger had left him.

"I've called a full Field meeting. Two options – cool it, or else."

"What's 'else'?"

"Me."

"Ah." Jackie glanced away, paused, then turned back and decided to abandon any finesse. She had to ask.

"Richard, you… are _you_, right?"

In the following moment of silence, Richard leaned forward until his face was little more than a hair's width away from hers. His stare rippled, until she was staring into twin pools of oily black.

"Who else would I be?" he asked quietly, his expression calm, controlled and utterly unreadable. He stood back abruptly and strode out without another word. Jackie watched him go and shook her head, an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she murmured. She sat back down again, but the seat suddenly seemed less than comfortable. Her two major discussions of the day played across her mind, for a large part overlaid. She was now seriously worried. Richard and Kate _rowing_, she could deal with that. Richard and Kate actually starting to lose trust in each other – _that_ was very different. Other members of the Terrace were certainly getting shaky in their control, but those two… They were the first ones who'd ever _had_ Self, for Merlin's sake! Frankly, both of them had been acting a bit off lately, but surely it hadn't been anything _that_ bad.

She suddenly felt very helpless.

-x-x-

There was definitely something wrong here. Sam hurried towards the break room, trying not to be noticed. Jackie had seemed unusually tense earlier, Elsa had been rapidly alternating between serene calm and being extremely frazzled and… well…

The air felt weird. Or sounded weird, Sam hadn't quite decided which. There was a _sense_ of something, like whispers just out of hearing. It was – for want of a better word – _louder_ the more people who were around, particularly when they were in the arguing groups, which by now was almost everyone.

It made Sam's skin crawl.

She was also pretty sure Jackie hadn't been telling her everything. The whole Terrace had changed since she arrived, she could swear it. And everyone was acting strangely too. She got the impression she was being deliberately left in the dark. This time, she was going to try and get more information.

The break room was empty when she arrived, aside from Jackie asleep in a leather recliner. Sam carefully settled down opposite and waited, scanning the older woman's features. She looked tired out, but normal. That was a relief – she didn't think she could take staring into another set of eyes fringed with glittery makeup. After a while, she decided to risk waking her.

"Jackie? Shall I come back later?"

"Mmm?" The redhead stirred, inching her brown eye open. She blinked at Sam, opened the grey eye of her mismatched pair, then focused.

"Wha-? Oh, damn, right, sorry," she pulled herself up again and yawned, "Long day."

"It's okay," Sam tried a small grin, "At least you're- I mean… "

"Not going sparkly?" Jackie sighed, "Yeah, the snoring kinda dispels the illusion, right?"

"Um… "

"I'm joking kid. Now, where were we?"

"Well," Sam hesitated, then decided to go straight in, "I thought… you-could-tell-me-what's-going-on!" The last part came out far too fast, as if the words wanted to get away from her as fast as possible, but Jackie seemed to understand. The older woman looked hard at her for a moment, then sighed.

"I don't want you drawn into this."

"I'm here, aren't I? That makes me in already." Sam was surprised at how sharp her own retort was. Jackie gave a thin smile.

"I guess. One thing-" she leaned closer, "-Richard or Kate?"

Sam blinked, then realised what she meant and felt her eyes widen.

"I just want to know what's happening! Not pick sides!"

"That's the problem," Jackie sat back glumly, "There never used to be _sides_. Admin and Field aren't supposed to be at each other's throats!"

"I… kinda thought Kate was the boss anyway… "

Jackie snorted.

"We're not an autocracy. Richard prefers being out in the Field; Kate has the most finesse with a spork. I have people skills that don't involve being intimidating or obeyed. We're a team. Or we should be… " She trailed off, expression twitching. Sam had never seen her look so uneasy.

"Why are people losing control?"

"Stress. The more pressure your Self is under, the less able you'll be to keep the Sue suppressed. There'll be an element of cabin fever too, the place has never been this full before."

Sam blinked. There was an edge of doubt in her companion's voice.

"So… you're sure it's nothing else?"

"Reasonably," the redhead raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking suspicious, "Why?"

Sam told her about the whispering. Jackie listened, but didn't seem convinced.

"Sounds a bit like Influence, but the sheer level someone would need to affect the whole Terrace… We'd never have missed that. The Suescope's too sensitive, if Kate can pick up un-interacted Sues, she'd-" She stopped, her eyes glazing over.

Silence.

Eventually, Sam coughed nervously. There was a very strange expression settled on Jackie's features. She must have said something wrong – again – so she decided to change the subject.

_Hopefully without making it too obvious_.

"So… uh… you talked about spork clearance-levels this morning?"

Jackie blinked and re-focused on reality. Her gaze immediately met Sam's, and she offered a tight smile.

"Sorry, just lost in thought. What about them?"

Relieved, Sam continued.

"I guess each level has a different type of spork then? Y'know, for different tasks?"

Jackie looked quizzically at her.

"Why d'you say that?"

"Well," Sam shifted uncomfortably, wondering what she'd done this time, "I mean, the one Richard had at the station wasn't really strong, right? He'd only got thin gloves on, but Kate had really thick ones when she sporked me, so I guessed it must be a stronger spork or something…" She trailed off. _Okay, I _**definitely**_ said something wrong there._ Jackie had gone pale, and was staring ahead as if looking at something being played out in the air several inches above Sam's shoulder.

"You're… quite sure?" She sounded very far away.

"Um… yes… " Sam answered in a small voice, trying not to make any more mistakes, "I mean… nothing's really clear _during_… but that was before…"

"Gloves… no spork… Sam," Jackie was suddenly on her feet and her hand locked tightly round Sam's wrist, pulling her upright, "Come on!"

Sam suddenly found herself being dragged out of the room into and along the corridors at breakneck speed. Doors blurred past, strains of pop music darting across her ears, surprised expressions appearing on the faces of those they barged past. In front of her, Jackie was muttering to herself but Sam couldn't hear the exact words. What was going on? What could she have said that-?

Her line of thought cut out as Jackie darted round a corner and collided with something that yelled as they went crashing to the ground. There were a few very busy moments, consisting mainly of arms, legs and swearing, before the scene resolved, revealing Richard pinning a surprised Jackie to the ground, his spork's glittering tips mere millimetres away from her throat. The two stared at each other, then Richard growled and stood up, glaring at her.

"Dammit Jackie!" He snarled, shoving the spork back into his robes and roughly proffering a hand, "Are you _trying_ to get hurt?"

Jackie accepted the help and clambered back onto her feet, brushing imaginary dust off her shirt.

"Actually, I was-"

"I don't have time for this!" Richard snapped, and Sam suddenly realised how angry he looked. The slight dishevelment from the collision didn't help.

"What about your meeting?"

He thrust an accusing finger back down the corridor, eyes burning.

"Didn't happen. I have just had to separate, spork and stun a six-member, l33t-screaming, glittery bitch fight!" Richard hissed, his eyes blazing with rage, "Entirely made up of my own damn Field operatives! I am not in the habit of taking out my own people! _This is going to stop _**now!**" He span round to continue forward, but Jackie lunged and caught his arm, dragging them together.

"Kate can't use a spork anymore!"

Richard stopped. Very slowly, he turned until he was staring directly into her eyes.

"What?"

"She wore dragonhide to spork Sam," Jackie gulped, shrinking back slightly under the power of Richard's glare, "And, I mean, she wasn't wearing one earlier… and…… Richard ……?"

Richard's face had frozen. The expression etched there was one Sam hoped she'd never have to see again. Wordlessly he pulled himself free of Jackie's grip and stalked away, moving with strangely smooth, determined strides. Jackie started after him, dragging Sam along behind again almost as an afterthought.

Their progress through the Terrace was less frantic now. It was, however, attracting a lot more attention. Doors opened as they passed, releasing more trails of testosterone-deficient boy-band wails and ear-drum destroying, screaming rock into the air. And people. Sam watched nervously as the doors a few metres behind from them disgorged the room's occupants, and more figures appeared from side corridors. Steadily, the crowd began to grow.

The Terrace was emptying itself. Sam was almost walking backwards now as she craned round, her gaze flicking from face to face in the crowd trailing along behind them. Some looked normal enough, but they were in the extreme minority. Black eyeshadow, scarlet lipstick, studs, collars, excessive cleavage, belt-kin skirts, all blurred together as the throng flowed along, moving more like a slow liquid with modelled swell than a group of people. Ocular cycles swirled, piercings caught the light with tiny metallic glints, but no one spoke.

The silence was broken only by the rhythmic thud of two pairs of boots and Sam's trainers. The crowd behind them didn't seem to make any sound as they moved, surging forward with silent inevitability. Sam got the impression that if she stopped moving, the heavily-accessorised wave would just envelop her. She turned again, her gaze locking with a glittering pair of violet eyes, and it took her a few moments to realise the ribbon-bedecked plaits surrounding the white-powered face were blue.

Then the whispering started. It rose over the crowd, bypassing Sam's ears and feeding directly into her mind, echoing round her consciousness. No one's lips were moving but the air boiled with the unheard muttering, intensity building steadily until it was a roar, the words unclear, indiscernible, but they weren't aimed at _her_, instead burrowing straight through her mind to the back as something else strained to answer. Sam could feel her eyes begin to swirl, reacting to the deafening silent clamour even as she stumbled…

… and was suddenly wrenched forward, physically dragged more than led, by the steel-strong grips clamped around her arms. For a moment the world went black, then Richard's robe moved out of her face and everything came crashing back. The whispering had muted, and it took her a few minutes to realise she was being marched along between Richard and Jackie – his hand on her shoulder, the redhead's arm in hers. Behind them, the silent mutterings seemed almost disappointed. Sam swallowed hard, feeling her heart hammering hard against her ribs.

"Wh-wh-what-?"

"Stay with us kid," Richard said quietly. Sam looked up at him and, for a second, beneath the rage imprinted on his features, there was something else. He was… afraid? No, that wasn't quite right, it was more like-

The ground beneath her feet suddenly became vertical and Sam barely had time to react before she was half-carried up the stairs. Halfway up, a faint creak was all that indicated the crowd had started the climb too. Sam forced herself not to look back, which took a lot of effort. Looking forward didn't turn out to be much better, as she focused on the door opposite and her eyes widened.

_Scanns?_

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Jackie asked softly. Richard released his hold on Sam and faced the suddenly ominous metal letters. His eyes darkened and he raised a flat palm towards the door.

"Let's find out."

-x-


	8. A little cut

The usual thanks to all the reviewers and my Beta. Chapter update frequency is going to decrease a little since I'm back at uni again now, and have to do sensible things as well!

Chapter 8

The Scanns door sprang open, slamming back against the inside wall so hard that the inner handle removed a significant chunk of plaster. The air cracked around Richard as he strode forward, the rest of the room suddenly becoming little more than his backdrop. After a moment's hesitation – and a sharp push in the shoulder blades from Jackie – Sam went after him.

She'd taken a few steps before she allowed herself a tiny peek in each direction and gulped. Like the first and only previous time she'd entered Scanns, a moment of quiet had fallen when Richard made his entrance; but _this _time, unlike before, the silence held. Absence of noise shouldn't be so _loud_, but this was almost deafening. Heads swivelled towards them as they passed, every pair of eyes in the room glinting as they trained on the arrivals. The scene looked normal – or at least, more normal than the rest of the Terrace right now – but there was something almost predatory in the unblinking stares following their movements.

Sam glanced back and missed a breath as two things became immediately apparent. Firstly, Jackie wasn't there – the familiar, flame haired figure was nowhere to be seen no matter how desperately Sam looked. Secondly, the main crowd had followed them in and was spreading out along the walls, filling every bit of space with silent, watching figures. The watchers weren't directly behind them anymore, but the front line was still getting closer as the room filled up.

Devoid of other options, and with her heart plunging to somewhere around her ankles, Sam turned and scurried after Richard.

He hadn't even slowed down, his dark gaze fixed squarely on the raised platform at the far end. Somehow it seemed a lot higher than before. As Sam looked at it, comparing the view with her memory, she realised there had been a change. Instead of the stairs being open to the room, there was now a heavy, black oak table positioned at the bottom of the rail. Two grey files were stark against the dark wood, one considerably thicker than the other, and an inkwell with a peacock quill was positioned neatly to one side.

"I was expecting something like this."

Sam's head jerked up as the new voice broke into the silence. The tones were silken, every syllable perfectly formed as they rang clearly through the air. She focused as a figure stepped into view at the top of the stairs.

It was Kate; but she looked very different. For one thing, she _glowed. _Her skin was flawless, every feature sculpted out of the white marble that seemed to form her flesh. The robes draped artistically across her slim form were cerulean silver, like water turned to cloth, open at the front to reveal a dress of kingfisher-blue, and her loose, waist-length hair was more platinum than blonde. The eyes shimmering out above proud cheekbones gleamed silver-grey.

A thin, sad smile graced her lips as she began to descend the steps; her attention fixed squarely on Richard.

"You're the best of us Richard," she said softly as she reached the table, laying a hand gently on the thick file, "but you ask too much of yourself."

Richard finally came to a halt a few feet away from the heavy table. Compared to the earlier fury, his expression now was all but blank.

"What I ask of myself is my own business," he said quietly, "But right now I have something to ask you."

Kate smiled, benevolence radiating out from every inch of her. Honestly, _that_ was the most disturbing thing so far. Scary Kate was one thing – _nice_ Kate was quite another.

"What would that be?"

Richard leaned forward, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial level.

"Who are you?"

Kate's expression… stopped. It was the only way Sam could think to describe it. For a fraction of a second the perfect features just _paused_; suspended like a mask and behind them… something else…

Then it was gone, so fast it had almost never been, and the woman re-animated, giving a low sigh that seemed far more in keeping with the character Sam was used to seeing her display. She flipped open the large folder, at the back, and pulled out a page.

"And _that_ is precisely what I'm talking about," she waved the paper, "Your actions in recent months have been most concerning. Paranoia, unprovoked rages, rash actions… It's not _like_ you. You're Oh-Oh-See."

"I am exactly who I've always been."

Kate's eyes flashed.

"I beg to differ. How long have we known each other? Ten years? I _know_ you Richard and this-" she tapped the file again, "-this isn't you. What I don't know is _her_."

Sam's stomach gave a horrible lurch as Kate's stare shot through her, contempt clear in her eyes. Richard didn't even turn round.

"Sam has nothing to do with this."

"She has everything to do with this!" Kate snapped and some of the control left her voice, its return accompanied by the first visible twitch of effort. "Please Richard, _think_ about it. She was the last one before the levels plunged. You said yourself something was building; well, you'll have to face that it was _her_. You've seen what's happened here since she's arrived!"

Richard's expression flickered with something like disgust.

"She's got more Self than some of your little minions," his lip curled slightly, "And she was a Serena. Why in _hell_ would she be a threat?"

"We've never seen Influence like that before, we don't know what to expect. This is something new-"

"No Kate," Richard cut her off, a strange edge to his voice, "It isn't."

Kate regarded him for a moment, then coolly flipped the file closed again, pushing it aside.

"We've been together for a decade. If nothing else, trust me on that. You are not yourself."

"Am I not?"

"You were her first Interaction," Kate continued more smoothly, his apparent consideration of her words relaxing her tone, "You'll have received the full impact of her initial Influence. It had to happen sometime. No-one blames you."

"I am _not_-" Richard started then stopped. His eyes glinted with the strange almost-fear Sam had seen earlier.

"I may not be under Influence," he said quietly, "But are you?"

Kate's expression iced over.

"Your eyes are a clear enough indicator, Richard. No one else has such extensive an Ocular Cycle, and it is quite clear it's affecting you."

"My eyes have nothing to do with this."

"You are under Influence!" Kate jabbed a finger accusingly in his direction, "Do not disobey me! You will give up your wand and surrender for re-sporking!"

Richard froze. For the briefest of moments, his features were unreadable.

Then his eyes narrowed.

"I have never been sporked. Nor commanded. And you _know_ that."

Kate's lips pressed into a tight line.

"Maybe it's time you were."

"Go ahead." Richard's tone was soft, but there was something diamond-hard under his words. For once, it wasn't the colour of his eyes that was the most obvious, but the sheer intensity suddenly burning there, fierce against his previous calm. Even Kate's composure seemed a little shaken, but she quickly rallied, and nodded shortly.

"Very well. Report to -"

"No."

Kate blinked, and her glare reappeared.

"What?"

"No," Richard repeated, "You want me sporked? Go ahead. Right here. I won't resist."

"Dammit Richard!" Kate's temper broke and her clenched fist slammed into the desk, splashing ink across the already stained wood as the inkwell toppled, "You know this is for your own good! I'm not going to spork you in public!"

"No," Richard's eyes were little more than dark slits now, "You won't do it here because you _can't_. You don't even carry a spork anymore, do you Kate? You need a dragon hide glove just to touch one!"

"Shut up!" Kate yelled and suddenly Richard lunged forward, right hand whipping out from his cloak in a lightning movement. A loud thunk of metal echoed dully through the room, followed by a single high-pitched reverberating note that continued even through the shocked silence.

Sam was fighting very hard to remove her tongue from where she seemed to have swallowed most of it. She stared at the frozen tableau before her. Richard was standing directly infront of the desk, his gaze locked unblinkingly with Kate's. His eyes were cycling, the same flowing change of shades as Sam had encountered at their first meeting – and Kate's were reacting, flickering from blue to grey to a strange, icy silver.

Between them, plunged into the stained woodwork and casting thin reflections in the pool of split ink, the spork was still vibrating.

Richard leaned forward.

"Take it." His voice was low, dangerous, "If you can."

"I am not playing games with you, _Richard_," Kate hissed, emphasising the name like an insult. Her attention flicked briefly towards the silver spike and her features twisted in revulsion. Richard caught her gaze again and then straightened up, shaking his head.

"Neither am I, Katryna."

"_Bastard!_" Kate screeched and suddenly lunged, her fingers locked around the desktop as she shoved it forward. Richard didn't have time to dodge it and let out a small cry as the heavy wood slammed into him, knocking him backward. He landed badly, elbows impacting into the floor with a painful crack, and just managed to kick his legs up to prevent the upended furniture falling onto him. His hand moved, going for his wand, but a heeled foot kicked it aside, sending the thin white wood flying out of his grip and skittering across the floor. The direction of Kate's next kick changed and caught him hard in the ribs, audibly forcing the air out of his lungs. He half made to sit up then froze as the dark shape of Kate's own wand halted a few inches away from his forehead.

Sam's body didn't seem to want to move. She felt utterly paralysed, aside from her heart, which was slamming a machine-gun beat painfully hard on her ribs. This…this wasn't happening! She had to do something…didn't she…?

Kate brushed a stray lock of platinum-blonde out of her eyes and glared down at Richard's prone form.

"Maybe I can't spork you," she hissed, then suddenly let out a cold laugh, so unlike any sound she'd made before that it almost seemed as if it had been dubbed on, and leaned closer, "But there's _plenty_ of other things I can do." She stood back, a strange smile on her lips and raised the wand.

"_Impe­r_-"

"_Accio__ Spork!_"

Kate span round as the second voice rang out, somewhere behind the crowd, which turned out to be a mistake. The silvery metal hummed as it tore out of the wood and shot through the air, drawn by the Summoning charm, but the space between it and the caster wasn't empty. Kate let out a shriek of pain as the sharp prongs plunged into her forearm, and a further agonised howl as the flesh charred, oily smoke rising from the wound. Richard didn't waste the chance and kicked hard, knocking her aside, and leapt to his feet. His cloak swirled out around him as he span round and started running, making it difficult to tell where the clothing stopped and the man began – which turned out to be very useful as the room suddenly exploded in a storm of scarlet Stunners.

Sam threw herself sideways, just avoiding a blast that shot past her head and took a chunk out of the bookcase nearest her, showering her with charred paper. She gave a yelp as someone suddenly grabbed her arm, almost pulling her off her feet, and looked up into Jackie's mismatched gaze.

"Get to the door!" The red-haired woman yelled and shoved her hard, before swivelling back and sending a fresh stream of scarlet across the room. Sam nodded and stumbled forward, hunched over and running like an inverted L. She could feel the edges of her eyes getting hot and fought to control the panic, her world narrowing to the movement of her muscles as she scrambled, almost on all fours, towards the door.

She didn't get far before her view suddenly vanished in a swirl of black and she found herself wrenched into the air. The world span dizzyingly as she was slung across broad shoulders like a bad rucksack, and it wasn't until she caught a glimpse of dark green that her panic stopped skyrocketing.

"_Impedimenta!_"

"_Rela_- Damn!" Richard's voice was slightly strained and Sam felt something skim over her head, "Fine! _Incendio_"

More yelling erupted. Sam hit the floor as Richard dropped her, shoving her through the doorway behind him. Kate's voice rang out above the chaos.

"Forget the fire! Get them!"

Sam didn't hear anything else as Jackie dived through the door, slamming it shut behind her and took over the Sam-dragging as Richard used his wand to seal the lock.

"We're _all?_"

Jackie nodded and Richard swore loudly as they pelted down the stairs. Doors sprang magically open as they approached and locked themselves behind them. Sam was trying very hard not to think about what had just happened. She'd been just about getting used to the idea of the Terrace, but now… She didn't know what to think. The look in Kate's eyes…She shivered.

Richard skidded to a halt when they reached the kitchen. He didn't waste time. The fireplace was ignited instantly and the three of them piled in, flames flaring green around them. Sam buried her face in Richard's cloak as the world lurched erratically, worse than any other time before, and she had to try very hard not to throw up. When her feet finally hit the floor again she had to cling on to him to stay upright.

She managed to look round and blinked. They were in the same decrepit room she had found herself when Richard dragged her off the station… when? A few months ago? It seemed like a lifetime. Surely this couldn't be the best place to escape to, there weren't any _doors_…

Richard had clearly considered this. He sent out two more blasts, one reducing the fireplace to a heap of rubble, the other taking out a window, and motioned to the hole.

"There's a broom shack here, grab two."

Jackie vanished through the broken frame. Before she could start to follow, a hand caught Sam's arm lightly. She looked round, and met Richard's gaze. His eyes were grey.

"It's not your fault."

"She said it was," Sam realised her voice was shaking and fought to control it, "Have…have I done something to you?"

"No," Richard shook his head and a small smile crept onto his lips, "No one gets me under thrall. I face Sues a hundred times more powerful than you on a weekly basis. If Katryna Malfoy and Adrastos Riddle can't keep me down, you are _nowhere_ close to a threat." He rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezed lightly, and straightened up. Sam followed him, puzzled. Katryna Malfoy? He'd called Kate Katryna earlier, just before everything went to hell…

…but who on Earth was _Adrastos Rid-_ …?

…

… no …

Sam felt her eyes widen and she quickly scrambled through the hole. She landed outside and looked round. They were in the middle of nowhere. Punctuated hills swept out away from them, swathed in purple-flecked cloaks of wiry heather and scattered with rocky outcrops. The building was huddled in the faint shelter of a particularly large outcrop and was even more dilapidated on the outside. Frankly, it looked about three gusts of decent wind away from collapsing.

Finally, she spotted Richard climbing up the outcrop, his robes billowing around him in the breeze. Any thoughts of trying to follow him broke as Jackie emerged from a derelict shed leaning up against the rockface, carrying two broomsticks. She flashed a smile, although it was clearly forced.

"Only two in working order, rot's got the rest. They're old, but they should get us to something approaching civilisation."

"Where are we?"

"Middle of the Yorkshire moors I think," Jackie glanced round and shrugged, "I haven't been in the Field for a long time, and obscure waypoints were always Richard's speciality. We'll hit a village sooner or later, find somewhere to stay for tonight."

"Jackie?" Sam asked quietly, stubbing her foot into the ground, "What are we going to do now?"

The older woman regarded her for a moment, then sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know. But this isn't the time to discuss it. C'mon, you can ride with me."

-x-x-

Sam didn't like flying. She discovered both this and the location of every seam in her clothing very rapidly after they left the ground. She spent most of the journey with her face pressed into Jackie's back, shivering. When they finally did land – the ancient brooms on the point of disintegrating – the only comfort Sam could draw was that her feet were touching the ground below. A few moments later, in testament to the universe's particular sense of humour, the clouds opened. Richard's rain-warding spells dealt with the problem of wetness, but the pelting grey sky did little to lift anyone's mood as they trudged along sodden country lanes towards the faint group of lights visible in the distance.

The village they arrived in wasn't large, or particularly impressive, although it seemed to be enough on the tourist routes to boast a small Bed and Breakfast. Richard removed the charms for a while before they entered, answering Sam's protest with a curt snap of "It's raining. Muggles get wet." When he decided they looked suitably bedraggled, they went inside.

The place wasn't much more than a converted house. Sam looked around at the overtly flowery wallpaper with matching borders, all in slightly faded pastel shades. There was nothing familiar here. Sure, if the view down the hallway was anything to go by, this place had a lot of bookcases too, but the Terrace had been rather devoid of delicate lace doilies and china figurines… Sam felt a lump rise in her throat as she realised she'd just thought in the past tense about the place she'd _almost_ been calling 'home'.

A new voice succeeded, thankfully, in diverting her attention.

"Can I help you?"

Sam looked up at the figure that had emerged from a room off to one side. A Muggle woman, by her dress, with grey-streaked hair wound up in a severe bun. Pale eyes stared out from a set of features locked into a faint, mechanical smile, suspicion clear on her face as she watched them. Sam could see her point – they did make an odd group. Richard had removed his cloak-like outer robes, leaving him looking rather like an unmasked ninja in army boots. Jackie had more usual Muggle-style dress anyway, but there was no getting away from her hair colour, so Sam herself probably looked the most normal of the three. After the earlier 'blending' exercise, they were all also dripping rhythmically onto the welcome mat.

Richard answered, his voice calm and business-like.

"You have vacancies?"

A little of the suspicion drained out of the woman's expression, but not much.

"One double and a single, is it?" She eyed Jackie, with a distinct look of disproval as her gaze reached the shock of scarlet hair, then she moved over to a large brown book on a nearby table.

"How long do you intend to be staying?"

"We're... undecided."

The woman gave a small sound, rather like a sniff, and arced a brow at them.

"And how do you intend to be paying, Mr-?"

"Richard," he said shortly, "Only ever Richard. The rooms are upstairs?" He nodded to Jackie without even waiting for an answer. The redhead nodded and gently took Sam's arm, leading her towards the stairs.

"Excuse _me_," the woman started forward, "I need a surname and a deposit before y-"

Before _what_ was never established as Richard sighed and snapped his fingers. The woman froze mid-sentence and mid-stride, giving the impression she was a paused video. Except – Sam realised – for her eyes. The pale stare was still moving, flicking between them with sudden terror.

"Ward us in," Richard said quietly, "Every crack. I don't want _oxygen_ getting through without being vetted."

Jackie's grip around Sam's arm tightened as she drew her away again, despite the girl's reluctance to move.

"C'mon kid," she muttered, "It's time you learnt some half-decent wards."

"But what about her?" Sam protested, "You're not just going to leave her like that?"

"We shall have a small _chat_," Richard's cold smile was distinctly unpleasant, "I'll be up soon."

Finally, Sam allowed herself to be led away. As the hallway dropped out of view of the stairs, she just had time to see Richard draw his wand and turned back to the petrified proprietor.

The first door they came to yielded to Jackie's touch and Sam was quickly, but firmly, pushed inside. The interior was about what she'd expected – pale shades and a mild over-ornamentation of crockery and doilies. Before she could say anything, the redhead slid past her and drew her wand, muttering as she swept it scientifically around at the walls. Briefly, the wallpaper seemed to go out of focus and shimmer, but it didn't last for long and Jackie soon relaxed. She must have caught Sam's expression because she smiled slightly.

"You want a go? I've done all the major stuff, and Richard'll check it all anyway, paranoid as he is-"

"Better paranoid than walking blind."

Sam span round so fast her whirling hair caught the dark figure behind her across the chest. How on earth did he move so quietly? She'd have sworn she hadn't heard the door open…

She shrank back a little as Richard glared at the pale fronds tangled on his shirt buttons.

"Get that cut," he snapped, unhooking her, and then turned his attention to Jackie, "We secured?"

"Best I can do. C'mon Sam, I'll sort your hair while he prowls."

Sam followed her gesture and dropped down onto the edge of the double bed, where the gelatinously-soft mattress rose up to claim her hips. She was dimly aware of Jackie muttering severing charms, accompanied by a lightening sensation at her scalp, but that wasn't what was occupying her mind. Now she was still, not being dragged along frantically, or attempting to keep her lunch on the back of a broomstick, or even trudging mechanically through sodden fields… she had time to think.

To _remember_.

The images rose. Ranks of silent, gliding Sues marched anew across her mind, glittering, jewel-like eyes scanning her greedily, then Scanns, Kate's bizarre alternation between facets of personality until finally-

_-Richard, flat on his back and for a moment the crack in his expression as Kate's wand zeroed in between his eyes, a brief flicker of some agonised fear Sam had never though his features could hold-_

_ -sickening wet sound as the spork plunged into Kate's arm, great clouds of smoke boiling free of the flesh as in the back of her mind Sam _felt_ the scream, the cry of enraged pain, betrayal-_

_ -the scent of burnt hair assaulting her nostrils as the Stunner flew past, missing her so closely and vanishing into the screeching throng of Sues, of the people Sam had been starting to get to know…or thought she had. How much was real? Was any of it?_

_ -Kate's eyes, swirling silver and the laugh, so high, so pure, so-_

"Sam?"

The mental slideshow shattered, flinging broken shards of memory across her mind as Jackie's face swam into view, twisted with concern, and Sam suddenly realised there were hands gripping her shoulder so tightly that her own violent shivering was being translated up the older woman's arms. She tried to breathe, calm, push the bubbling tide of memory away, but it was too strong, too much, and she was so _tired…_

"… sorry …" She was dimly aware of being pulled into a tight hug before her vision faded and she pitched forward into unconsciousness.****

-x-x-

Quiet voices filtered slowly into Sam's mind, dancing lightly on the edge of hearing.

"…hardly your fault…"

"I should have listened to my instincts. Now look where we are."

"Could be worse-"

A sharp, humourless laugh cut the other sentence.

"Please, enlighten me on how?"

Dreamily, Sam let the words slide across her ears, not paying any of her fragment attention to their meanings. It was almost comforting, the tones were familiar, so very-

- then the world came crashing back. Sam sat bolt upright with a gasp, knocking aside the bedcovers that had been laid gently over her as the last few hours of consciousness played at blurring speed across her mind. The Terrace, the Sues and the old shack, then here and her hair and she'd passed out…

"Sam? How'd you feel?"

Sam re-focused on the chintzy world around her, and turned in the direction of the voice. Her two older companions were seated in the corner on wickerwork chairs, a small coffee table between them. They were both watching her closely, and Sam felt a blush start to bloom on her cheeks.

"Um… a bit wobbly, I guess…"

"You need tea," said Jackie firmly as she reached down to a tray by her feet, where a large cream teapot was steaming gently. "Since our hostess was kind enough to bring this up. Well, I say _kind_, she seemed rather convinced my name is 'Bobby' and kept asking me how the church fete went, so _confused_ may be a better description."

"Mild side effect," Richard didn't even turn to meet the pointed glance in his direction, "All I did was a memory charm. She won't be scrambled for long."

"While she is, shall we try for biscuits?" Jackie winked as she poured milk into a cup and heaped in several teaspoons of sugar. The actual tea was somewhat of an afterthought. She moved over to the bed and handed Sam the cup, smiling sagely.

"Hot, sweet, milky tea. Cures damn near anything, even stuff chocolate won't scratch."

Sam took the drink. The cup was decorated a little too over-enthusiastically with painted roses, but it was warm and reassuringly _solid_. She felt strangely detached from everything, as if she'd suddenly skipped a chapter in a very involved and complex novel and couldn't go back to check the missing pages.

The others were still watching her. She didn't really feel like making eye contact, and concentrated on the tea. All that prevented the next few minutes from being oppressively quiet was the dull drone of a vacuum cleaner filtering up from downstairs.

"What happened?" The question was so sharp, so sudden, that it took Sam a moment to realise the voice that had spoken had been her own.

"Don't worry, you just passed out. Pretty expected, considering -"

"No," Sam cut her off, "**_What happened?_**"

There was another detached moment before she realised she was standing up, fists clenched at her sides, as the abruptly discarded teacup rolled under the bed as if seeking sanctuary there. She swayed a little, but stayed upright. She was very tired of being left utterly in the dark!

Neither Richard nor Jackie replied at first, but Sam caught the quick glance that passed between them. She pressed it.

"I don't understand! And I can't if you don't tell me what's going on."

More silence.

"Okay," Jackie said finally, and with a strange edge of reluctance in her voice. She looked up and Sam could see conflicting emotions fighting in her expression. The red-haired woman fidgeted.

"I told you we were in the Terrace from early on, right? Well… there's more to it. We _started_ the whole thing, and as far as we know we were the first to gain control over our Sues. It happened about the same time. In sixth year-"

Sam blinked.

"You were at Hogwarts?"

"Of course we were!" Richard snapped and the arm of his chair creaked dangerously as his fist clenched, "Where d'you think they all aim for? The school's the largest concentration of potential Influence in the country."

"As I was saying," Jackie shot a small glare at him before continuing, "We were the first. Or rather, Kaleidoscope-iris over there was. And Kate. She was Katryna Malfoy at the time of course, and Richard-"

"Wasn't."

"Oh for-" Jackie gave a quiet snarl of frustration, "Will you just let me tell this?"

She got a non-committal grunt in reply and rolled her eyes.

"Anyway. They realised it first, that we just couldn't _be_ who we thought we were. It wasn't possible. There's a very long tale of bizarre self-conflict, extracurricular research and dumb luck behind finding out what we actually were, and I had very little to do with it. I was in the year below and I'd barely even _seen_ either of them around before Kate found me, dragged me off into the Room of Requirement and tried the first Suppression. Didn't work massively well, but it gave me Self enough to hear what they were saying."

Sam frowned.

"So you didn't know each other?"

"That's one of the complicated bits," Jackie ran a hand through her hair, "You see… Sues don't like cooperating, and unless they're part of the same… er …" She waved a hand in the air, as if trying to pick a word out of the space around her head, "… I guess _storyline_ is the best term. Whatever game they're trying to play with reality. If they're not in the same one then they're good at blanking the other out. Kate was in my own House, but I'd never really seen her until she cornered me."

"So… Kate and Richard…?"

"Yes," Richard cut in sharply, "We interacted. Our obligate mind-parasites must have known each other."

"The entire school was divided into camps pledging allegiance to one or the other!" Jackie shook her head, "They were so close… I don't think they'd expected internal resistance, not from 'residual personality'."

"What happened?" Sam was almost afraid to ask. She watched Richard's face twist into a decidedly evil expression. He laughed quietly, but there was no humour in the sound.

"What happened? We got _names_. There's a very old power there, in a name. It's something to be _around_, a core of Self. They found something they couldn't break, and it was in their heads."

"They found themSelves," Jackie nodded slightly, "Then they found me. There were others, two, I think, but not enough Self. We… er … had to leave rather abruptly. Nowhere to go in the Muggle world, classed as Dark Creatures fit only for instant death in the Wizarding one, what else could we do? We rented a few rooms in an old terrace and things kinda expanded from there."

Sam was starting to get the familiar 'too much to take in' feeling, but she ignored it. Interesting though back-story might be, they still hadn't answered her real question.

"So what _just_ happened?"

Jackie shuffled uncomfortably.

"Well… I guess normally we'd call it a sporking failure, but that's not quite…"

"'Not quite' being the stupidest underestimate you've come out with in a long time."

"Richard? Shut up. Right," Jackie turned back to Sam, "the simplest answer is we don't know. The whole Terrace seems to have regressed, but the scale is like nothing we've ever seen. Plus they're working together. Sues aren't naturally co-operative, they're either dominant or subservient and they'll fight to the death not to be the latter."

"That's because Kate's in control?"

"Kate _isn't_ in control." Richard growled, his fists clenching again, and when he next spoke it was as if he were talking mostly to himself. "We've never had help. Everyone, from Jackie onwards we sporked, but not us. Never us. We prided ourselves in our self-control. We didn't _need_ help. We could handle it alone. But…" He trailed off, and for a second that strange pain was in his eyes again. Jackie picked up the thread again.

"-it looks like Kate can't anymore. It's understandable I suppose, she's always handled the initial sporkings, and we know the Sues fight back hard. That much Influence… and it _is_ cumulative… "

"So… Kate's not in control of what she's doing?" Sam hazarded. A low snort from Richard cut her off. His eyes were the strange oily black again.

"That wasn't Kate."

"But-"

"_That wasn't Kate!_"

"No," Jackie's hand snaked out and dropped onto Richard's forearm, squeezing gently, "It wasn't. Katryna's back. However much we don't want to admit it."

The Silence descended, worthy of its capital letter. After a few seconds, San realised she had to break it or her ears were going to explode to fill the void.

"But… why us? Why are we the only ones not… y'know…?" She knew she looked bewildered – fair enough, she _felt_ it – and focused her question on Jackie. Richard's eyes were unnerving her too much to look directly at him. The redhead sighed.

"You haven't been here long enough for any thrall to affect you much, plus you were only sporked recently. As for us-"

"Zitkalasa is too strong. So's Adrastos," Richard muttered, venom dripping from each syllable as he spoke the name, "Katryna wouldn't have been able to do more than aggravate them."

Some questions, no matter how persistently they hammer on your skull, are best left unasked. Sam had yet to learn this. As she looked back at Richard, the words crept traitorously past her lips before she had time to consider what she was saying.

"So… you're… Astrasmos?"

"**_Adrastos_**," Richard hissed and suddenly he was on his feet, features twisted very far away from handsome, with pure hate burning in his obsidian stare, "And _Sam_?"

Sam was trying very hard to blend into the wallpaper. The look on Richard's face was reaching deep into her mind and setting off centres for terror.

" … y-yes…?"

"_Never_ call me that again."

-x-


	9. Tangled strings

(Thanks again to all reviewers! I didn't manage to email responses for the last chapter, but you're all as appreciated as ever.) 

**Chapter 9**

****

****

The rest of the night was uncomfortable. Sam tried several apologies, but after the third time of being unacknowledged or glared at she gave up, and resorted to sitting as far away from Richard's brooding figure as possible. Even Jackie abandoned her attempts at cheery small-talk, busying herself instead with re-checking the wards and muttering about a lack of cigarettes.****

By some unspoken agreement, they didn't try to get a second room. Drying charms dealt with any residual rain, and another silent discussion gave Jackie and Sam the main bed. Richard transfigured the wickerwork chairs together into something resembling the hybrid offspring of a hammock and a hanging basket, and took that for himself.

Sam slept fitfully. There were too many lines of thought spinning around her mind for it to lend itself well to sleep. Half-formed dreams rose, breaking again as she tried to see them clearly, pulling her back to consciousness and leaving her to stare at the dark roof. Sound was oddly amplified by the night: it added strange mental echoes to Jackie's soft snoring and the wooden creaks as Richard shifted position on his makeshift cot.

She felt very alone. A shiver ran through her and she curled up, pulling a little more of the duvet over to her side. Was this what it had been like at the start, for them? Lying in a borrowed bed, in a room warded shut against known and unknown enemies? Staring at the darkened walls unable to sleep for the black thoughts swirling endlessly around their minds? She thought she'd accepted the Terrace, everything it meant, but what did she _really_ know? The scale hadn't registered before - she'd never put much thought beyond her own immediate predicament. Now she did.

It was a war. The Muggle world was always torn by battle, the Wizarding one teetering on the brink of some deadly resurgence of a conflict thought defeated, but… Trapped somewhere between the two, the Terrace was a permanent front line in a very different fight. When she thought about it, really _thought_, it made Sam's head spin. Every day, Richard and his Field teams sought out Sues, destroying those they had to, bringing back those who could be something more. What were they, anyway? Not completely human, but Sue no longer. Caught as much between natures as they were between worlds.

She'd had it easy. She'd been picked up by the best, before her Sue was strong, brought back and fitted in. Questions answered – mostly – when she asked them; given food, shelter, clothes; meeting people who knew what she was, who didn't even need to accept it because it was what they were too. It had been easy to walk into that, be welcomed and looked after and shielded - at least for now - from everything outside.

How did you _start_ something like that? Sam rolled over again and swallowed hard. They'd been in the sixth year, Jackie had said. Maybe seventeen, only a few years older than Sam herself probably was, and knowing only one thing for certain – that everything they'd ever known was a lie.

How did you sit down and decide to declare an invisible war against something inside you? Something that could _be_ you any moment your control broke. _Maybe they didn't decide_, Sam thought, _maybe it… just happened? _**I**_ didn't decide to be here, but I am now…_ She could probably just walk away, but they could have done so too. They hadn't. They'd stayed, and they'd started fighting.

The memories rose: of the creature in the basement globe, mesmerising, oily whispers; and of the moment her gaze had locked with that of one of the gliding, predatory Sues' and she'd seen Elsa's face being worn by someone else.

She'd stay.

She'd stay because she'd seen what really lay behind those masks of perfect flesh.

She'd stay because she couldn't just walk away from that.

She'd stay, because now, when she really asked herself _why_…

"It's not because we want to," she said softly, voicing the thought to try and pin it down, "It's because we're the only ones who can."

"Pretty close, kid."

The sudden voice made Sam sit upright abruptly, prompting a "wsrfg?" from Jackie, who shifted and changed snore patterns. Sam looked over at Richard's 'bed'. His face was illuminated slightly by the faint trails of grey, early morning light creeping hesitantly through the window blinds. To her surprise, there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Usually takes people years to get _that_ philosophical."

"I couldn't sleep," Sam mumbled, oddly embarrassed. She hadn't expected anyone to be _listening_ to her. There was a creak as Richard shifted round, so his now-pale gaze met hers more strongly.

"Give it another go. You'll need it."

"Okay." Sam lowered herself back into the pillow, surprised at how leaden her eyelids suddenly felt. The bed seemed a lot more comfortable than before and she could feel herself drifting. The mad whirl of her thoughts had stilled, leaving only one still glaringly prominent.

"Richard?" she murmured, her words blurring dreamily.

"Yes?"

"Your name… I _am_ sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's alright. Get some rest, Sam."

The last strains of his voice lead her gently into sleep.

-x-x-

By the time Sam awoke again, it was fully light, and her first bleary glance around the room revealed that the furniture was back to normal. She wasn't sure how long she'd slept for, but was almost immediately furnished with a plate of toast and bacon by a tousle-haired Jackie, who must have gone on a kitchen hunt. Sam perched on the edge of one restored chair and tried to force her taste buds to suggest something other than 'cardboard' as she ate. The fact that her stomach seemed to have been replaced by a clenched ball of nervousness didn't much help. Five in the morning may have brought sudden insight, but in the cold light of day such thoughts were difficult to apply to reality. Did they even have a plan now?

She tried to draw some kind of clue out of her companions, but that proved useless. Jackie was fussing around making the bed the Muggle way. Richard had taken up position half leaning on the window frame, and showed no intention of moving or fixing his attention on anything inside the room. Sam half wondered if he was on guard, but there wasn't much visible out of their window than the tops of other village houses and some fields. His ocular cycle was active, and it took a lot of effort on Sam's part to drag her gaze away from the cycling shades. She shivered slightly. Even after everything she'd seen so far, Richard's eyes were _weird_.

Following any more of that train of thought became impossible as Jackie dropped down into the chair next to her, prompting a loud creak of protest from the recently maligned wood, and stole some toast.

"Well, I've procrastinated as long as I can stand without starting to redecorate, so - "

"We're going back." Richard finally turned back to the room, to be greeted by a female unison of disbelief. He rolled his eyes.

"Neither of you are deaf, and I spoke quite clearly. We are going back, _now_."

"Are you crazy?" Jackie stared at him, disbelief etched on her features, "You want us to just waltz back in to the whole hornets' nest? I - "

Richard straightened up. It wasn't, by his standards, a particularly dramatic or sweeping movement, but there was something in his stance that cut Jackie's words short. He caught her gaze; his eyes rippling to grey, and when he spoke his tones were very quiet.

"Nine years is a long time Jackie. I'm not going to give up on h- " - a moment's hesitation, corrected almost too quickly to notice - "Everyone. I don't _want_ to go back. I have to. I - "

"_You can be so damn _**arrogant**_ at times!_" Jackie was suddenly on her feet, matching his glare as she stepped forward and jammed a pointed nail into Richard's ribs. "You and your _bloody_ martyr complex! _Give up?!_ I'll be covering your back until they Avada me into the Cretaceous, I'm just a little wary of walking directly into a glittery, seething mass of unleashed Sues!"

"Then you'll be pleased to know they probably won't be there anymore."

Jackie hesitated, with the slightly unbalanced expression of someone stopped mid-rant. She blinked a few times, and then raised an eyebrow.

"How d'you figure?"

"She's had over sixteen hours," Richard shrugged, "Even factoring in how many wards they'll need to break, and what we shall call Conflicts of Interest, if Katryna hasn't reached full dominance yet it can't be far off. When she does, she's not going to stay put."

"You think she'll be after Hogwarts?" The fight had gone out of Jackie's stance, and she now looked seriously worried. Richard shrugged again and gave a low growl.

"Don't know. Initial guess would be so, it was… _their_ original target, but it might be too obvious. I'm… wary of treating this too classically. We don't know how long Katryna's been gaining control for and underestimation of her will be fatal. We need to know where she's headed. There's only one thing that can tell us that." He caught Jackie's gaze, and the redhead nodded slowly.

"The Suescope."

"Exactly. We're going back."

"Um - " Sam had to quash the urge to raise a hand, instead concentrating on making her voice more than a squeak as both gazes swung down towards her, " - am I part of the 'us'?"

She was expecting hesitation, an awkward moment of silence that would tell her what she'd been dreading – that she wasn't wanted, that she'd have to stay here or in the old safe house or something and have to watch from the sidelines…

It didn't happen. Richard's lips twitched, and to Sam's shock he tapped a hand very lightly on her shoulder.

"Katryna isn't to be taken on lightly, and especially not by you. Serenas are a good indicator of Sue activity, but they're never very strong. That said, you've shown a bit of backbone, kid, and I'm loathe to leave you in this pastel paradise. Just try not to get killed."

Sam gulped, but managed to croak an affirmative. What else _could_ you say to something like that?

"Richard, Master of the Backhand Compliment," Jackie grinned slightly, then tapped her index fingers together. "Right, so if we're following your harebrained scheme, our first problem is transport. You might be able to Apparate as easily as you walk, but I have no desire to be splinched across half of Yorkshire and I doubt Sam has either."

"The Floo network is out." Richard sighed, mild disgust flickering across his face, "Looks like we're taking the train."

"You got any Muggle money?"

"What a strange idea."

-x-x-

It turned out that 'taking the train' was a rather simplistic description of the journey that followed. Sam leaned on the window, watching trees and shrubs flash past on the embankments flanking the track, and wondered if this had been typical. It was so _long_. A slow slightly rickety bus that they were lucky to find from the little village to a bigger town, followed by a long wait for the infrequent local train. That finally terminated at a much larger station, seemingly consisting entirely of coffee shops, luggage trolleys and queues, with the platforms crammed somewhere in the middle. Sam had given up trying to work out where they actually were and just followed Richard, who somehow managed to sweep along unhindered, the crowds parting before him like a biblical sea. He was also the only one who knew what they were doing – Sam had no clue, and Jackie was spending most of her time muttering curses about 'British Rail', whatever _that_ was.

Their current train was apparently the last one they needed, which was in one way a relief – no more rushing around, or waiting on freezing platforms – but also confirmed a far more worrying prospect: They were nearly back.

Sam shivered and glanced back over at her companions. Jackie was staring out of the other window, tapping her fingers distractedly on her forearms. Richard had barely moved since they'd boarded – other than to stare at the conductor and inform him calmly that he had already seen their tickets until the man had wandered off looking rather dazed. Sam saw nothing that helped to dispel the churning in her stomach. There were three of them. _Three_. And she couldn't even do anything; she didn't have a wand or a spork or _anything_. The Terrace had to number hundreds…

"We're going to lose, aren't we?" She hadn't meant to speak, but the treacherous part of her brain with a direct link to her vocal chords was being unnecessarily active again.

"I don't know." Richard eased one eye open and blinked at her. "But I don't _lose_."

"How about control? Ever lose that?" Sam almost clamped a hand over her mouth as Richard's other eye opened and his full glare locked on to her. Why the hell was she saying this? _I must be crazy…_

Richard's lip curled.

"Don't let me stop you," he said, ice dripping from his words, "You must have gone nearly an entire hour without unleashing a barrage of irrelevant questions, so I appreciate the strain you must be under. Do enlighten me as to your _point_, **kid**."

Sam nearly swallowed her tongue. She had to fight the urge to shrink back into the scratchy blue seat cover, and forced the words out.

"I-I mean, you said, Kate… and you… You'd never been sporked either! H-how do we know you w-won't…?"

Richard regarded her coolly for a moment. Then he smiled. It was a rather reptilian grin, with as much warmth as permafrost.

"I haven't had to rely quite as much on raw willpower. _My_ control involves a little more of a deal with the devil, you might say."

Sam stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"Y-you… you made a _deal?_ With your _Stu?_"

She hadn't been expecting him to laugh. Strange amusement skirted around the chuckle as his lips twitched again. He leaned forward again, eyes dark.

"Your mistake," he said softly, "Is assuming _I_ was the one who needed a deal."

"If you've _quite_ finished," Jackie snapped, suddenly turning back from her window vigil with a scowl on her features, "We've got more important things to do than bicker."

"Thank you, Lady Obvious."

"I _mean_, we have one spork, two wands and your razor wit between us. That isn't exactly an arsenal - "

"Two sporks." Richard corrected, prompting an irritated sigh from Jackie.

"You left yours in Katryna's arm, remember?"

Another cold chuckle echoed around the carriage as Richard reached down, pulling a trouser leg up to reveal a thin silvery shape bound to his calf with black material. His lips twitched at the expression on Jackie's face.

"You've played poker with me, Jackie. Ever known me _not_ to have a few extra cards up my sleeve?"

"Yes, well, thank you for telling me," she glared at him, "Honestly, sometimes you - "

"Here," Richard cut her off, swapping the spork into his waist-holster, and tugged off one of his gloves, "I take it you're still left-handed?"

Jackie blinked at the proffered garment. Sam saw the mismatched gaze flick from the dark glove towards the exposed flesh and alight, very briefly, on something on his palm. Then the redhead shook herself and looked back up at Richard.

"I don't need your gloves."

"You're only getting the one. This is a spork-ready situation; I don't need you getting first-degree burns from your weapon."

"I - "

"Jackie," his voice suddenly sounded very resigned, "Everything might have gone to hell in mascara, but this is a _Field_ situation, so I still call the shots. Take the damn glove."

Jackie took it. She pulled it on and Sam turned away, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She got the impression that something rather symbolic had just occurred, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what. _It looks…_ _personal. And I'm just the tag-along hindrance_… Her stomach gave another small lurch at the thought, and she returned her attention to the embankments whizzing past outside. It was definitely getting dark again – okay, they had been travelling for a while, and it _was_ November – and the sickly amber glow of Muggle streetlamps were visible, stretching out in punctuated lines across the landscape.

Sam blinked. There were a _lot_ of lights.

"Hey, we're slowing down."

"Right," Richard stood up, swaying with the carriage as the train slowed, "Once out, we'll get a taxi to just outside the wards. Eyes open, Sam, you stay between us at all times. Do exactly what I tell you to, and no pointless heroics. That goes for everyone. Understand?"

Jackie managed a mock salute and a tight grin, but Sam didn't trust herself not to throw up with fear if she opened her mouth, so she simply nodded.

The train shuddered to a halt, accompanied by a faint squeal of brakes. Richard pulled his folded robes out of the luggage rack, unfurled them with a flick of his wrist and swept them around himself as he strode towards the door.

"Drama-queen," Jackie muttered as she headed after him, motioning for Sam to follow.

Finding a taxi was simple enough, and amazingly no one en-route made any mention of the group's appearance. The only comment came from the driver, who cheerily asked if Richard had just graduated. He got a curt 'yes' in return, and a steely glare with enough force behind it to end any other possibility of conversation. The in-car silence was broken only by Richard's occasional directions, and Sam took to staring out of the window again, trying to ignore the taut line of Jackie's lips as the older woman ran her fingers over her newly-gloved hand.

It was surreal. Sam's gaze tracked other cars as they drove past, and lingered on groups of Muggles walking along the pavements talking, laughing. Shop fronts glowed brightly in the fading light, offering newspapers, clothes, groceries - _normal_ things. Yet here they were, crammed into a taxi that smelt of overzealous air-fresheners, heading for a battle they didn't know how to fight, let alone win.

What on_ earth_ were they supposed to - ?

The car stopped.

"Out." Richard's voice was utter monotone, but Sam's heart still made a bid for freedom through her throat. It took her three tries to work the door handle, and by the time her legs hit the pavement she was already shaking. Silently, Jackie got out behind her, one hand dropping lightly onto Sam's arm as she steered her away from the curb. After a moment's brief conversation with the driver, Richard joined them and the car pulled away. Sam got a brief glimpse of the driver's face as he went past – he looked as dazed as everyone else who'd tried to ask Richard for money so far.

"How do you _do_ that?" Jackie watched the car vanish round a corner.

"Charisma." Richard drew his wand and his expression hardened again. In the amber light, his eyes were a very strange colour indeed. "Let's go."

Sam was quickly slotted in between the two taller figures as they dropped into step, moving swiftly along the empty, street-lit pavements. She wasn't sure how far away they were and found herself searching for anything familiar, not that she'd ever really been outsi-

Suddenly, it was there, in front of them as they turned a corner. The Terrace took up the entire side of one street, and somehow managed to loom far more than any of its surrounding peers. What was most obvious, however, was the _damage_. Sam's heart hammered on a few more ribs, as her eyes took in the shattered windows and gaping open doorways dotted at intervals along the building. Smoke was rising out of some of them and sparks, possibly electrical, were visible through a few. Other than that, it was dark, silent, and somehow… brooding.

"Hasn't anyone _noticed_ this?" She mumbled, glancing from side to side to see if there were any evident Muggle emergency services.

"It's charmed. Muggles won't see anything unusual, and we don't get many Wizards round here," said Jackie as they moved forward. "Some of those wards must still be up."

"How nice," Richard swung his wand up, "_Reducto_."

Sam physically jumped as the door nearest to them was blasted off its hinges by the barked curse, crashing back into the darkness beyond in several different pieces. He swept forward, Jackie propelling Sam along in front of her by way of a free hand on the shoulders. As the darkness enveloped her, Sam couldn't help but shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to see what was undoubtedly waiting for them.

After a few moments of standing still, waiting for the world to come crashing down, it became clear that it wasn't going to, Sam inched her eyelids open. Jackie was standing in front of her, the wand above her head spilling soft light over what was visible of the corridor. It mostly consisted of half-demolished bookshelves and Richard, who was flicking his wand through the air in intricate patterns, concentration set on his features. Before Sam could say anything else, he stopped, then blasted a fallen shelf nearby into splinters and strode towards the opened space.

"Katryna's gone."

"And the others?"

"Them too, as far as I can tell."

"They really left?" Jackie squinted round through the gloom as she pulled Sam after her again, "I mean… _all_ of them?"

"Katryna's strong," Richard muttered, "No one had a chance. They might be Sues, but the Influence counts, even if it isn't much."

Sam stopped paying attention to the conversation. Neither of her companions seemed about to elaborate on any of the more cryptic aspects, and she was getting tired of feeling left out. She trailed behind Jackie as the older ones moved forward cautiously, wands drawn.

Her earlier estimation had been, if anything, too generous a description of the Terrace's condition. The place wasn't just damaged, it was _wrecked_. Bookcases had been upturned and many bore scars of flame. Doors were off their hinges; light bulbs blasted into fragments, furniture battered and strewn at odd – and in several cases gravity-defying – angles. Even the torches had been reduced to debris, leaving the battered former headquarters lit only by what pale yellow light drifted in from street lamps outside.

As they entered the over-extended room that held the huge fireplace, Sam nudged the tip of her shoe though a pile of charred book covers.

"Why would she do all this?"

"Why not? _Lumos_," Richard swept his beam of light over the collapsed remnants of the great fireplace. "The Terrace is everything she's not. Guess she thought this would stop me using any of this against her."

"They can't have destroyed everything," Jackie sighed as she pushed a half-collapsed door aside, "Particularly what we need."

Richard gave a short sound that may almost have been a laugh.

"No, that would be your job."

"Richard? Shut up."

Sam blinked. Jackie's tone was light, airy, but there was an edge of steel under her words that Sam hadn't heard from her before. Clearly, whatever he'd been implying had struck a nerve.

Any further consideration of the matter stopped as Sam nearly walked straight into the back of a suddenly frozen Richard.

"_Nox_," he hissed and the glow around his wand instantly extinguished, plunging the room back into semi-darkness. Sam suddenly found herself shoved back into Jackie, who circled one arm around her protectively whilst the other hand rested gently over her mouth, indicating without words an abrupt need for quiet.

No one moved. Sam could hear Richard's measured breathing, although most sound was smothered by the deafening beat of her heart. What was going on? Why -?

A fresh sound reached her ears – the almost inaudible soft drag of cloth on wood – but before she could even register the noise Richard span round. His wand arced up, light flaring at the lip.

"_Luna solem!_"

Brilliant white light erupted from the wood, the beam lancing upward into the ceiling as darkness fled before it. For a split second the searchlight blast illuminated a huge, bat-like shadow against the wall, before some unseen force slammed into the dark figure and sent it crashing down into a stack of broken bookshelves. An unearthly scream cut the air, masking the crash as the shelves collapsed and the hex-accompanied, scrambled footfalls as Richard leapt forward. The light was blinding now and Sam had to turn away, burying her face in Jackie's shoulder to cut out some of the brilliance. She couldn't block out the wail, or the now audible sounds of a struggle, and just had to listen until a few moments later when Richard growled –

"_Silencio_"

- and the screeching stopped.

Sam didn't dare move, and it took a lot of effort on Jackie's part to pry her off. When she did finally let go she turned round, dreading what she was going to see. What she actually saw was Richard pulling his robes back into place, apparently unscathed. He re-lit the room again, this time with the blessedly soft light of _Lumos_, and Sam was finally able to see his opponent. When she did, her eyes widened.

It was Darek. Or, at least, it looked like him. Sort of. His features were sharper, his skin a deathly pallor rather than its usual shade and there were two dagger-point fangs curling down over his lips. Sam swallowed hard as her gaze met the eyes still flickering active behind the hex-bind. They were _entirely_ black, except for the irises, which were the glistening crimson of a freshly-opened wound.

"Wh-what _happened_ to him?" She goggled, "Kate…er…Katryna did _that?_"

"No," Richard aimed a cold glare down at his former student, "Damn Stu thinks it's a vampire. Word of _advice_, Erebus?" He crouched down suddenly, until he was leaning over the pallid face so closely his stray hair scraped the skin, "If Darek was no match for me, _you_ are not even close."

The Stu _hissed_. Richard stood up, flicked his wand at the ground by Erebus' hands and muttered something. Sam watched in amazement as the floorboards seemed to liquidate for a moment, the Stu's hands sinking into them, and then solidified to leave the paralysed figure effectively welded into the floor. Richard stepped back and made his way back to the group.

"He's not going anywhere," Richard gave a low sigh, "And I think we need to split up. Katryna's definitely not here, so we need to move fast. Jackie, you go see if there's anything left in Field-prep we can use, specifically transport. I'll head to Scanns. Sam, with me, I can watch more backs than just my own."

Sam nodded. She wasn't sure if this was a good development or not – although she guessed at not. Was splitting up a really good idea? What if…?

She couldn't finish the thought, and shot an anxious look at Jackie.

"Okay." The redhead half-turned, but Richard caught her shoulder with his bare hand before she could move, and pulled her back.

"Jackie," there was suddenly a strange edge of concern in his voice, "We've had Erebus. You know who else might be around."

Jackie stopped.

"You think?" She sounded uncertain, "Surely Katryna would want her too?"

"Depends on how much she wants to stop _us_." Richard said grimly, "Just… be careful."

"Always am," Jackie flashed a tight smile, glancing at Sam as she did so, "I'll see you later." Then she was gone, vanishing into the void of a nearby hallway. Sam watched her go, feeling sick.

"I -"

"She'll be fine," Richard stepped forward, glancing back at her over his shoulder, "Jackie's tough. Stick close, kid." He continued walking. Sam shot a final look at Erebus' paralysed form, shivered, and scurried after Richard.

-x-x-

Jackie crept silently through the corridors, the wand out in front of her casting a soft glow through the gloom. She knew these stairways blindfolded, normally, but the amount of debris that was scattered now meant even she had to be careful. How on Earth the rest had actually got _out_ of here she couldn't think, unless they'd just brought everything down behind them. Gripping her wand in her teeth, she scrambled over yet another collapsed bookcase. When had they acquired so many bookcases anyway? She half suspected the things _bred_.

She slid down the other side, and suddenly her feet met nothing but air. Instinct cut in and her fingers clamped on the shelves beneath her, pulling her arms at odd angles as they suddenly took all her weight.

_Where am I? Shit, shit…_ Her mental map of the Terrace swirled in front of her eyes and she started swearing quietly under her breath. The shelves she was perched on must have fallen over right in front of the stairs, but she couldn't tell how far out they were. Wonderful, breaking a leg was _just_ what she needed right now. Carefully, she braced herself against the shelf and mumbled around her wand, increasing the power of the _lumos_ spell until she could see better. It wasn't as bad as she thought – if she turned like _this_, moved her right leg _there_ and lowered herself down like _this_…

Her feet scraped the edge of the step, and it was at that moment that the book she was leaning on chose to give up the ghost and split apart. Pages skidded under her elbow and Jackie gave a yelp as she slid backwards, her knees buckling under her and smacking the edge of the step hard enough to send agonising jolts of pain up her legs. Her hands windmilled and in the moment before gravity regained interest in her she hunched forward, so instead of crashing backwards down the stairs, she instead skidded down from step to step like a bad cartoon, accompanied by a hail of falling books. The landing was a little cushioned by books that had bounced past her, but not much, and the following ones seemed to be those with the sharpest corners.

By the time the hail stopped, Jackie was very bruised.

"Dammit." She eased herself upright and, after a quick check to ensure that she had no broken bones, she looked around for the missing wand. It had either gone out or was buried under books. The hallway she'd landed in was very dark anyway, and she'd have to wait a while for her eyes to adjust back to the darkness.

It was then that the hair on her neck began to prickle. Jackie hadn't been out in the Field for almost four years, but some instincts never went away. She wasn't alone.

_I need light_. She quickly began shoving books aside, searching for the telltale lumos glow. Nothing. Her ears pricked. Had she heard something? A soft, damp breathing?

On the plus side, Richard should be able to get to Scanns unnoticed then…

She _definitely_ heard something that time. The wand was nowhere nearer showing itself and she had run out of time. Damn… she really didn't want to do this…

No choice.

Jackie straightened up and held her clenched fists slightly out either side of her body. She let her eyes slide closed for a moment, concentrated hard and muttered:

"_Pyros_."

Red light sprang up along her arms with a sound like a match striking. The scarlet air swirled up her arms and over her chest, surrounding her in a soft glow. Her eyes snapped open and she focused again on her surroundings.

A low growl suddenly rose through the air and Jackie swivelled round. Her gaze hit the figure still half-hidden in the new shadows her light was creating. Long strands of hair hung down around a distorted familiar face, the features dragged forward and elongated into a snout-like jaw. Sharply pointed, fur edged ears jutted out atop her head and fur was visible across the curled hands resting nonchalantly on the figure's waist. A pair of slanted eyes with slit pupils gleamed strange amber in the light, fixing a piercing stare on her.

Jackie crushed a small jolt of panic.

"Chandra."

Chandra mid-transformation, in fact. The Sue always had been able to pause it partway. _Calm down, Jackie._ She couldn't afford to give ground to panic here. Chandra had been tough, true, but it wasn't like she'd actually be facing _Luce_ here. If Erebus had been anything to go by, the Sue didn't pay much attention to their residual's experiences. Richard had taken him down easily enough. Okay, that had been _Richard_, but still…

The time for mental strings of self-doubt ended abruptly as Chandra growled. It was a primal, _hungry_ sound that pushed straight into very old parts of the brain, flipping the switches of ancient fears. Jackie swallowed hard as the werewolf watched her, scorn clear in its eyes.

"It rrrememberrrs me," the growl permeated her words, rolling them strangely in a way that indicated there were considerably more teeth present than would normally be accounted for. "How verrry sweet."

"Still playing with your morphology, I see," Jackie snapped back, trying to draw attention to her face as her hand edged towards her waist, "Tell me Chandra, at what point did giving yourself _lycanthropy_ seem like a good idea? Oh, wait, it's Luce who has to deal with all that crap, isn't it? You just get to be a _true_ bitch."

Chandra regarded her again. Then she smiled. The expression was nothing but _teeth_.

"Rrrun," she said softly, her eyes glinting in the firelight, "Little birrrd. I waant to see you _rrrun_"

Jackie felt her fingers brush the spork handle.

"No."

Chandra's eyes narrowed.

"Baad choice."

Jackie was ready for the lunge, but not the _speed_. She barely had time to bring the spork free before Chandra slammed into her, hands locking onto her shoulders. She had no choice but to go with the movement, stumbling backward even as she brought the spork to towards the toothy grin.

Then everything changed. A shudder rippled through the Sue's body, and suddenly there weren't hands on her shoulders anymore. They were paws. White fangs flashes inches from her face as the spork was torn out of her grasp and Jackie heard it hit the floor somewhere outside her circle of light. She drew back automatically, losing her balance as the wolf pressed her down, and she landed heavily, flames smothered by the deadly mass of sinewy, furred muscle pinning her down. Before she even had a chance to panic the fangs flashed again, hot breath searing across her face as Chandra leaned forward. The wolf was _heavy_. Jackie's ribs creaked dangerously as her opponent's muzzle contorted, sinking back until it had enough lips to speak.

"Whaat's wrrrong, little birrrd? You should have rrrun for me!"

"I'm…trying to remember…my Field…time…" Jackie gasped through compacting lungs. Chandra gave a growling laugh.

"You aaarrre no Richaaarrrrd." Her head arced back, mouth distorting back to a snout as it opened wide, ready to bite. "Die _now_."

"I seem… to recall…" Jackie brought her head forward sharply, slamming her forehead into Chandra's jaw with all the force she could muster. It hurt, but it hurt the werewolf more and it gave a strangled yelp, rearing back. Jackie snatched her chance. She threw herself sideways, wincing as the wolf's claws cut into her shoulders and kicked out, catching Chandra across the jaw with her heel.

"_Lumos!_" Jackie yelled as loud as she could, putting all her desperation into her voice and finally white light speared up from one of the piles of books her fight must have dislodged. She dived towards it and scrabbled frantically, letting out a gasp of relief as her fingers closed around the smooth wood. Wrenching it free, she threw herself sideways again as the air above her was suddenly filled with wolf. Chandra overshot her leap and landed on the stairs in a mass of scrabbling claws and torn pages. Jackie scrambled to her feet and turned to face the Sue, jaw set and wand drawn. Now she was _armed_.

Chandra howled, the sound rising up through the darkened building as a deathly echo, and her eyes blazed with animal rage. A snarling curled through the air and there was the impression of words in there, but the wolf was too far-gone, the throat too canine now to produce recognisable syllables. Jackie let her eyes narrow.

"… werewolves don't like fire."

Chandra launched herself. Claws flashed against a backdrop of fangs, aiming for her throat. Jackie dropped backwards; sliding down like a counterweight as the wolf sailed over her, momentarily puzzled as its prey vanished. Jackie's back hit the floor and she brought her knees up, planting her feet on the under side of the Sue's belly as it passed over her. Her wand swung up and at the same time as she uncoiled her legs hard she yelled.

"_Incendio_" Scarlet light swirled around her arm and up into the wand as the spell fired and a massive blast of flame erupted from the tip. Chandra let out a howl of pain as the fire surged around her, the stench of burning fur filling the air, and Jackie rolled as the wolf flew overhead, making sure her wand tracked its trajectory. The doorframe of one of the nearby cellar steps abruptly ended the Sue's initially graceful arc and it crumpled in a smouldering heap, whining. The whine dropped in pitch and quickly changed into a groan as the wolf-shape retreated, and suddenly Chandra's human form was curled up on the floor, her hair smoking.

Jackie stood up slowly, keeping her wand trained on the groaning figure. Her shoulders throbbed but she didn't have time to deal with them yet. She lit the room with _Lumos_ again and looked at her opponent. Most of the Sue's skin was red and blistering, and she had lost a lot of hair.

If there was one thing Jackie was _good_ at, it was flame spells. Although if memory served, that wouldn't be enough to bring down Chandra.

"Get up," she said softly, "I know you're not finished yet."

The groan changed abruptly into a snort and Chandra twisted round. Her teeth, still fang-like even in this form, were bared. Jackie didn't give her a chance to react or transform again, and shot off a few finishing hexes. Their impacts knocked the Sue sideways. Jackie's lips curled around the Petrificus charms, ready to bind the Sue.

It was then things got strange. Chandra ducked aside to avoid the next curse and her hand slipped, sending her arm skidding down the steps. The yelp that followed made even the earlier scalded cry of pain seem nothing and Jackie blinked as Chandra scooted back from the edge like she was on wheels. A new fear was etched onto the blistered features, one that Jackie was pretty sure she'd never produced, even in _weak_ Sues.

"_Petrificus__ artus_," Jackie snapped, taking advantage of her opponent's moment of distraction, "_Mobilicorpus_"

The Sue didn't have time to dodge. She stiffened and rose into the air, even as her attention switched back to Jackie and she growled again.

"Rrrleaaase me!"

"I'd rather drop you," Jackie shrugged and waved her wand, prompting Chandra to start drifting towards the stairs again. The Sue's expression suddenly changed from hostility back to fear and she started twisting against the bind, shudders rippling down her body as her muscles fought their restraint.

"N0! N0 y0u can't!" Her voice caught oddly on the ears, control breaking. Jackie let the Sue drift lower and fixed her with a glare.

"Why not? It's just a cellar."

"_She_ is -" Chandra's voice cut out in a whine and she shook her head violently, as if trying to shake something free, "She - No! _I_ will n0t!"

"Who's 'she'? Kate?"

Chandra snorted, but gave a fresh yelp as Jackie lowered her even further.

"Yes! No! She, she let _h3r_ - " Her voice cut out in a howl as the Sue _writhed_ and suddenly began to change again, hands twisting into paws, fur rising through the skin. The change stopped abruptly as Jackie slammed her into the wall and fired off a few Stunners. Finally, Chandra fell limp, and Jackie sealed the spells, levitating her unconscious opponent back into the room and dumping her on a heap of books.

When she was sure Chandra wasn't about to come to, Jackie changed her attention to the steps. She'd never seen a Sue that frightened before, not outside of a Suppression sporking. Why? She reached the steps and knelt down, shining her light down into the gloom.

She blinked. That was odd. A few steps down, the stairwell was… foggy. It looked like someone had dumped a bucketful of dry ice down there; a thin layer of grey fog was swirling above the steps. Warnings began flaring in her mind. Smoke, _any_ smoke, here was usually a bad sign. She glanced back at the darkened floor and quickly Summoned her spork from where it had come to rest under an upturned table. She caught the metal in her gloved hand and leaned forward, tracing it through the air above the fog.

The smoke drew back as the spikes approached and Jackie swore quietly. She had an idea what the cause of the fog, and reason for Chandra's fear at going into the cellar, might be.

She hoped she was wrong.

-x-


	10. Self defence

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! If you asked a question and I didn't answer – I'm not ignoring you, but don't want to give anything away :)

Additional thanks to both betas of this chapter, serenasnape, and filiuslupi.

Additional disclaimer at the end, slight spoiler if read first ;)

**Chapter 10**

Richard moved through the darkened corridors of the Terrace with a stealth ninjas would envy. Sam scurried along behind and winced at every one of her footfalls that echoed or cracked on the floor. She didn't dare move her gaze either side of the dark shape sweeping silently before her, so she stumbled over more things half hidden in the gloom than perhaps she should otherwise have done. She had a horrible feeling that if she looked away, even for a second, Richard would vanish. The very idea of being left alone here was enough to send cold shivers down her back, so she trailed as close to him as she dared to.

She was also utterly lost. All her usual landmarks for navigating the labyrinthine corridors had gone, vanished into the darkness. Richard either had a different set of markers, or the floor plan of the Terrace tattooed on his eyelids. Either way, his steps never faltered.

Sam hopped over the remnants of the latest bookshelf unfortunate enough to be in Richard's way, and nearly ran into his back. Extricating herself quickly from the trailing ends of his cloak, she hesitated, and then peered nervously round him to see what had made him stop. Apparently, it was a staircase. More specifically, it was the stairs leading up to Scanns. After a few moments of inaction, Sam glanced at her companion. He was glaring at the stairs intently, and Sam followed his gaze. The Scanns door was visible at the top; off its hinges, but visible, and there was nothing blocking the path. Why the hesitation?

"Is … something wrong?" she asked in what was meant to be a casual tone, but which came out as a slightly strangled whisper. Richard's eyes narrowed.

"Too easy," his arm shot up, flicking the wand out in front of him, "Far too easy. _Ostendo_." An elongated, mushroom-shaped cloud of purple light swelled out of the end of the wand and drifted lazily towards the stairs. Richard's fingers twitched and the cloud shuddered, then suddenly shot forward, swelling as it moved and leaving thin strands of light hanging in the air behind it. The cloud finally hit the back wall in the splattered way of some bizarre ethereal tomato, but that wasn't what Sam was staring it. Strung out across the stairwell, outlined now by tiny beads of purple light, were thick, glistening fibres. It looked like a pastel-obsessed spider had taken up residence.

"Thought so," Richard tapped his wand's tip, lighting it up with a similar purple light, and stepped forward, swinging the wand towards the nearest strand. It shattered as the wand connected, accompanied by a sound like that of breaking china, and sent a shower of rapidly dissipating fragments towards the floor.

Richard was about to take another step when movement caught Sam's eye. The ceiling above his head, still coated in glittering violet pinpricks, was shifting, something seeming to pool there, like water collecting under a tap…

Before Sam could fully realise what she was doing, she'd reacted and lunged forward. Her fingers buried in Richard's trailing robes and she yanked back with everything she had.

"_Look out!_" The words were blurred, half-screamed, and would have been too late if that was all she had done. As it was, her sudden action caught Richard off guard and brought him crashing backward onto her in the same moment a fresh spike of highlighted air plunged down, passing through the air Richard's head had occupied less than a second before. Sam gave a muffled gasp as the cloaked weight landed on her, painfully forcing the air out of her lungs even as he rolled aside. He was back on his feet almost instantly, shooting accusatory glares first at Sam, then the roof. Realisation flickered in the dark stare and he glanced down at the lower edge of his robe, which had been dragged through the beam. A section of the heavy material had melted clean away, leaving nothing but a smooth hole.

Sam swallowed hard.

"Wha-?"

"Apparently not as simple a version of that curse as I thought." Richard glared at the faintly glinting webs, then back at her. His lips nearly twitched as he extended a hand and helped her up.

"Sharp reflexes, kid."

"Th-thanks. Er …" Sam glanced at the stairs again, trying not to wonder what effect the webs would have on _flesh_, "Will they keep coming back?"

"Looks like it." Richard ran his thumb over the damaged robe thoughtfully, then his eyes darkened and he looked back down at her. "Quick reflexes? How fast can you _run_?"

"I … I've never tried."

"Let's find out." He swung an arm around her shoulders, sweeping the cloak around them both. Sam felt her heart sink as she realised what he had planned. Oh _no _…

Richard brought his wand up again, holding the glowing tip less than an inch away from the new strand.

"Head down, and stay with me. Ready?"

Sam made a small noise. Even she wasn't sure if it was affirmative or not. Richard nodded.

"Good. _Go!_"

He dove forward and Sam's eyelids slammed closed as she started running. It was the best option – if she could have _seen_ the glimmering threads shattering so close to her as Richard's arm whipped back and forth in front of them, _noticed_ the fresh lines of webbing drop down behind them so close they licked at her heels, she'd never have made it. At least with her eyelids clamped shut, all she had to concentrate on was the drag of Richard's arm around her shoulders and her own frantic, scrabbled footsteps seeking to keep pace with him.

The journey up the staircase couldn't have taken more than a few seconds. It felt like eternity. With every passing heartbeat she expected to feel some searing spike plunge through her. None came, and suddenly the stairs ceased to contain infinity and her feet hit flat ground. Off-balance, she stumbled against Richard, her eyelids flicking open for long enough to see the doorframe whiz past as they tumbled through it in a mass of limbs and cloak. Sam tripped, Richard didn't, and she found herself being hauled back onto her feet. The ground swam beneath her and she clutched automatically at the hands on her shoulders. Slowly, past the deafening sound of the blood rushing in her ears, she became aware of someone talking to her.

"…Sam? Don't give up on me now, kid. Sam? Can you hear me?"

Sam's eyelids snapped open and she let out a gasp as she focused on Richard's face, held inches away from her own. His eyes were grey and she forced herself to concentrate on them.

"I'm okay," she gulped, although it came out more as 'emmoky'. "I-I just…"

"Sit down," Richard gently pushed her shoulders, supporting her weight as she dropped to the ground, "I need to check the main room."

Sam sat, automatically drawing her knees up towards her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. She realised she was shaking and started to try to stop it. Once most of the major twitches had ended, she reluctantly let her gaze move from the floor between her feet up to the rest of the room.

It was about what she'd expected.

Scanns was wrecked. It looked like several bombs had gone off in there – anything that wasn't broken was upturned, in disarray or slightly on fire. Several less easily identifiable objects were making strange noises or giving off sparks of varied colours, some of which the brain didn't want to admit it could recognise. The scene flickered before Sam's eyes, her mind overlaying two very difference pictures onto this one. Scanns when she'd first arrived, busy, lively, filled with chatter; then Scanns when she'd been here last, filled instead with the eerie silence of a hundred Sues. Now _this_. Three very different faces for one room.

A low exclamation dragged her out of her thoughts and she blinked, squinting through the gloom to where Richard's _Lumos_ spotlight was visible. He was on the far platform, but she couldn't make out anything else.

"What's wrong?"

His lack of answer was less than reassuring, and Sam suddenly became very aware of the yawning doorway behind her. Scrambling to her feet, she picked her way through the debris towards the steps. She swallowed a gulp as she edged round the upturned bulk of the heavy table and scooted up onto the platform. Once there, she stopped. Strangely, only one area seemed disturbed.

The golden Suescope table was missing. It had been replaced by a very large hole. Richard was crouched next to the opening, alternating between running a hand over its strangely smooth edge and glaring into it.

Sam crept forward, half-expecting a rebuke for moving. None came, so she decided to risk a question.

"What happened?"

Richard still didn't answer. He leaned forward, increasing the power of his _Lumos_ as he shone the beam into the pit. Warily, Sam crouched down and shuffled slowly on her knees to the edge. She peered in. The shaft was about two metres across and perfectly straight, as if something very sharp had cored the floor like an apple. Floors, piping, electrical wires and openings gouged into lower rooms all caught the soft white light; layers upon layers of architectural strata. Here and there, a small waterfall gushed from a fractured pipe and slashed mains cables sparked unhappily.

All this, however, was only visible for part of the way down. The actual bottom of the shaft was hidden by thick, oily grey fog, glistening strangely in the _Lumos_ glow.

"Katryna did _that?_"

"So it would seem." Richard glanced round and Summoned a marginally-intact book. He tossed it into the shaft and watched dispassionately as the fog closed over it. Sam half-expected a long pause, followed by the distant echo as the unfortunate tome vanished into the earth. In fact, she was oddly disappointed when the dull thud rose to meet them almost immediately.

"Only a few floors," Richard shot an appraising glance back at the doorway, then at the hole, "But I don't like the idea of attacking those webs again." He leaned forward and shot off another of the purple mushroom-lights, this one passing down the hole unhindered. He gave a curt nod and the flicked the wand again. Sam jumped as thick cords erupted from the tip of the wood, accompanied by a short '_bang'_, and secured themselves to the intact flooring surrounding the hole. Richard looped one around his hand and stood up, positioning himself with his heels hanging over the edge.

"Wrap them round your hands once, and let the line out slowly. You'll only fall if you let go." With that he took a step back, and Sam had to swallow a yelp as he dropped downwards in a swirl of cloak. The _Lumos_ vanished with him, plunging Sam back into street-lamp enhanced gloom. She quickly grabbed a handful of rope and looped it round her hands like he'd done, trying to ignore the way her fingers were shaking. It looked easy enough …

_But he makes everything look easy._

She pushed the thought from her mind and dithered on the edge, trying to summon enough courage to jump as he had. After a few minutes of internal debate, and some unpleasantly worded objections from her leg muscles, she gave up on that idea and crouched down, slowly lowering herself over the edge as she wriggled backwards. That worked a little better; and managed to stave off any fresh panic until she was hanging a few feet down the shaft and her hands decided to lock around the ropes.

_Come on, come _**on**_…_ Richard was already down there, and for all she knew he could _see_ her messing this up. The thought granted her an extra pulse of determination and she managed to ease her fingers open enough for the ropes to begin sliding through them. The cord was smooth, light, and Sam could feel a sensation like static-cling as it moved over her skin. It didn't appear to be giving her friction burns – which was useful, since whatever more specialised properties the cord had, it did little to alter the fact her entire weight was being supported purely by her arms.

She risked a look down through the squashed triangle of space between her forearms and body, and swallowed a gulp as she watched her feet sink into the fog layer. It took a lot of effort to keep herself from trying to crawl back up the rope, although she did hold her breath as her head moved into the haze. She didn't have to do it for long. The world went white for a few feet, then suddenly opened up again into clear shaft. Clear, _dark_ shaft, the debris-strewn floor visible only as a patterned area of blackness. Sam dropped the remaining metre, landing oddly, and automatically flung out a hand to steady herself. Her palm hit the wall and she jerked back, swinging round and squinting in disbelief.

The _wall_ was foggy. Her gaze tracked the thin grey layer upward, until it curled over into a softly undulating ceiling above her. She looked down, watching thin trails of mist seep gently around her feet and rise up onto the wall. _This is weird …_

She shivered and stepped away from the wall, hopping over the biggest floor-level trail, and squinted into the gloom as she strained to hear. _Now, where did Richard go?_

_More importantly – where the hell am I?_

Looking up again, she was suddenly struck by an intense desire to be somewhere that wasn't roofed with oily fog. Something was prickling unpleasantly at the back of her mind, darting out of view ever time it started to become clear. It felt … a little like a warning? Wary as she was about following any unidentified strings of thought, it seemed sensible to heed this one.

Slowly, feeling the way with hands and feet before she moved, Sam began to work her way along the walls until she came to an opening. She ducked through, avoiding the thin streams of fog swirling through alongside her, and found herself in the middle of a low-roofed corridor. It was actually surprisingly well lit –

"The Suescope's not here."

– and that would be why. Sam turned, relieved, as she focused on Richard standing further down the corridor, shadows fleeing from the wandlight around him. Sam hurried over.

"We're in the cellars, aren't we?"

"Yes." His reply seemed distracted, and Sam realised he was staring intently at the wall; his wand held close to the tendril of fog trailing up there. She was about to speak when silver flashed in the light as Richard drove his spork into the wall.

Hard.

"Damn," he hissed. Sam stared at the spork. It was embedded in the mortar, with the trail of smoke bisected neatly around it. The split ends waved in the air, peeling back slightly towards Richard's face. For a split second, they almost seemed to have _nails_…

"Get back to Scanns," Richard tore the spork free again and swung round, sudden urgency in his voice, "_Now!_"

A hand slammed into Sam's shoulders, shoving her back towards the hole with such force she had to break into a run to stay balanced. She glanced down and yelped, skidding to a halt as the smoky trails swirled up in front of her. They surged together, swelling up across the opening like a smoky grid. The lines thickened, melding into each other, until it blocked the hole completely. Sam scrambled back, colliding with Richard, who swept her bodily aside as he lunged for the misty curtain. He slashed across it with the spork, but the surface healed again instantly behind each slash. Sam's elbows scraped the bare wall as she backed into it.

"Wha-?"

"Damn!" Richard stepped back, shoving the spork back into its holster, and aimed his wand at the fog, "_Reducto_."

The spell hit the surface and vanished without even a ripple. Richard tried a couple more spells that Sam recognised, then several she didn't, then punching it. Nothing made any difference. Spells went straight through and somehow his blow rebounded like he'd punched rubber.

Richard stepped back, eyes narrowed, and when he spoke Sam was certain the words weren't aimed at her.

"I didn't think you were _that_ crazy …"

"Wh-what's happening?" The words escaped Sam's lips before she could stop them, and she swallowed another yelp as Richard span round, his hand clamping so hard around her arm she could feel the bones creak.

"You are going to be ready to run like the devil is on your heels whenever I tell you to."

Sam goggled at him.

"Why?"

"Because she might well be."

Sam didn't have time to contemplate the words as she was suddenly dragged away from the wall, swept up in the seething black shadow Richard formed behind his own _Lumos_ as he moved forward. Dark walls blurred past, mundane things like old furniture and trunks leaping into the pool of light so suddenly they formed abrupt, ghastly shadows before melting back into darkness. Sam was horribly aware of the fog drifting around their ankles, tracing their steps, guiding, _herding_. It was even more apparent whenever Richard tried to take a passage clear of the trails – the entrance would seal with solid mist instantly, driving them back – and when Sam looked tentatively back she could swear there was even more following them. It was as if the smoke they'd passed already was eager to get back in on the action.

Sam knew she was shaking. She kept shooting sidelong glances at Richard, trying to draw some kind of comfort from his face, but there was none there. His expression was closed, except for the hard green of his eyes, glittering with black determination.

She didn't want to ask.

She didn't _need_ to ask.

She didn't have the chance. The corridor suddenly opened out before them into a large space. She couldn't make out much detail, other than that the entrance seemed to have been knocked through a wall – going by the debris – and the ground inside was thick with fog. It covered the room, wall-to-wall like an undulating, faintly glowing carpet, highlighting the rough triangular shape to the space.

Next to her, Richard muttered something and fired a bolt of white light at the roof, where it stuck, forming something roughly like a lightbulb. Sam followed his gaze in the new light and felt a traitorous dart of relief sink into her mind as she saw, sitting at the far end of the room and half-buried under assorted rubble, a familiar golden shape. Worries momentarily forgotten, she took a step forward. Her foot plunged through the deeper fog and jarred painfully to one side. She winced, transferring her weight back, and looked down at whatever she'd just turned her ankle on.

A tiny _Lumos_ rainbow danced on the fog, refracted strangely by the curved shard of thick, clear glass just peaking out from the surface. A shiver started at the top of Sam's spine, but halfway down it was overtaken by a fresh one, as the next second an unearthly howling shattered the silence. It wasn't loud, or close by, but something so primal didn't need to be.

"_Chandra_," Richard's head flicked up towards the roof, and for a moment concern and confusion battled across his face, "But not here – "

The howl cut out, but the noise didn't stop. It had been replaced, so seamlessly it was only when Sam _listened_ that she realised it was a different sound making her hair stand on end. It was the high, cold sound of laughter, tinkling like a crystal waterfall as it echoed back and forth across the mind as much as it did through the air. Suddenly there were words, buoyed up by the laugh rather than hidden by it.

"_A little cut was all it took,_

_ a crack in fortress tall._

_ Strings all broken, puppets crushed._

_ How far the mighty fall."_

Sam froze. The final flimsy shield of doubt she'd been clinging to shattered as that voice crept into her ears and she shrank back, heart hammering on her ribs. Was it even possible for this to get any worse?

Apparently, it was.

Sam barely had time to register what was happening as the fog suddenly rippled, surging up her legs before she could react. Her feet left the ground as a thick coil tightened impossibly around her waist, wrenching her forward and up, spinning her round dizzyingly. The world blurred and Sam's eyes squeezed shut, her stomach lurching even when her back slammed into the floor hard enough to make her teethrattle. She forced her eyes open again, unsure of what to expect.

She hadn't expected this. Her jaw dropped as she stared upwards, or at least, what _should _have been upwards. In actuality, what _should_ have been the ceiling seemed to be the opposite wall and she found herself looking _across_ at the floor, where Richard was still visible, his cloak hurled aside as he held both wand and spork out in front of him. It was as if her personal definition of 'down' had been shifted by ninety degrees, leaving her pinned halfway up a wall by some twisted gravity.

Something giggled by her ear.

"Stay here, little Serena. Enjoy the view. I'll play with _you_ later."

Sam swivelled round, in time to see a tendril of fog pull away back into the floor. She sat up, which was horribly disorientating, and turned back towards Richard. He hadn't moved yet, and was glaring at the fog with oily black hate.

"Funny," he growled, the comment clearly not aimed at Sam, "I never saw _you _as the submissive type."

The laugh echoed again, still appearing from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"My, my! Dear Richard, you surprise me. You think Sues are incapable of a more … mutually beneficial arrangement?"

"I'm not here to talk to you, Serenity," he hissed, eyes narrowing, "Show yourself! Let's get this over with."

An exaggerated tutting sound rattled through the air and Sam watched as the smoke drew away from around Richard's feet, leaving him surrounded by a fog-ringed puddle of clear space.

"Ah, but it's been so long since we've had a little _chat_," the voice purred, "I've been waiting for you, Richard. I knew you'd make it down here. So did your darling Katryna."

"I'm flattered," Richard was speaking entirely through clenched teeth now, that much was clear in his voice, "Now, show me something corporeal so I can kill you."

The giggle rose again, but this time there was a focus, the sound collecting out of the air as an area of fog began to rise up opposite Richard's glare. Shapeless, then rounded, then something rather like a mortar shell made of mist –

– then it shattered. Trails of fog flew off in different directions, merging back into the mass, as a figure condensed to something approaching humanoid. It was, however, only _approaching_ humanoid. Twin points of sickly golden light formed and elongated into slanted slashes of eyes, the blank face forming smoothly around them. Gassy hair unfurled, but the longer strands were still attached to the floor, as was the end of her torso, dissolving into shapeless fog that boiled down into the swirling mass below her.

Serenity smiled brightly.

"This better?"

"Much." A jet of red light shot through her head, splitting the fog apart like a dropped melon, before the curse splashed into the wall. For a split second, no one moved. Then a fresh laugh bubbled up as the splayed strands of fog curled back, slotting neatly back into the head as Serenity's face re-formed. The eyes gleamed again and she giggled.

"Oops. Possibly not corporeal enough?"

"I will _not_ play your damn games!"

"Ah," Serenity's eyes narrowed, and suddenly the ground-level fog began to ripple and bubble as her arms extended down into it, "But _I _do. Play with me, Richard. It's not like you have a _choice_."

The next few moments were very busy. Serenity plunged back into the fog layer as if the floor had given way, just as Richard lunged forward, scything his spork through the now-empty air. The laugh bubbled again, losing focus as it spread out through the undulating fog. The mists swirled, eddies dancing just out of Richard's reach. He tried another spell, this one sending out a pulse of rippling air that managed to clear a path through the smoke for an instant before it closed back again seamlessly.

He didn't have time to try again as the fog rose up behind him and he threw himself aside, misty tendrils slicing through the air so fast they whistled. Richard hit the ground in a roll and the fog followed him, snatching at his body as he ploughed through it. He leapt back to his feet and the mist began to wind up his legs, hands forming and dissolving again instantly as they tugged at his clothes. The spork sliced the tendrils from the main fog and he shook them off, but they came back again just as fast, and suddenly Serenity was there, wrapping vaporous arms around his chest from behind.

"You want to know why Katryna didn't fight me herself?" she purred, before her current head ruptured around Richard's fist. His hand passed straight through and the smoke surged in the opposite direction, flowing rapidly up his arm, across his chest, down, and then Serenity was suddenly behind him again, this time with her hands held over his eyes. Her lips brushed his ear, her eyes gleaming.

"I think you do. See, _you_ are not the only ones who can make a deal."

This time it was the back of Richard's own head that smashed hers apart and he span round, whirling the strands of fog off him. He straightened up again, eyes burning darkly.

"_What?_"

Serenity giggled and crashed back into the fog again.

"Dance with me, Richard!"

He reacted just in time. A massive, serrated spike of very solid-looking fog erupted past him as he leapt back, the tip gouging a crater in the roof and showering the dark stumbling figure with brick dust. The spike shattered almost instantly, but a fresh one took its place, then another, and another, forcing Richard to dive from side to side, from feet to hands and back again to avoid them.

He faltered very slightly coming out of the final roll and Sam heard him gasp as the ground erupted in a mass of thick, misty threads. A smoky tendril whirled up, catching around his wrist and wrenching him forward, off balance, as it started to tighten. Richard yanked his arm free, but the moment of distraction had been enough. Another solid trail hooked around one leg, then the other, then an arm as each limb was bound in succession. The tendrils rippled and Richard gave an audible grunt as his arms were dragged out at his sides, then his legs, leaving him spread-eagled in the air His muscles twitched, straining visibly under his clothes as he fought the bonds.

The remaining tendrils whirled around each other, rising up and melding until two slits of yellow brilliance opened and Serenity formed anew opposite the bound figure. She smiled again and stepped forward, running her hands back and forth along Richard's straining arms, from wrists to chest, before they finally stopped on his shoulders. She leaned in closer, and when she spoke her crystal tones were oddly conspiratorial.

"Guess _my_ deal, Richard. It's not like yours, don't worry, you're still _speschul_ there."

He didn't answer, his lips pressed together so tightly they had almost vanished. Serenity giggled and slid one hand up his neck, rotating it as it reached his face so the half-closed fingers sat to the side of his mouth, like a naked glove puppet.

"Tell me, Serenity," she said, in a deeper voice that mimicked his, as she made her pseudo-puppet 'talk' along with her words, "For I am _dying_ to know." Abruptly, she whipped her hand around again, sliding the gassy fingers up his cheek in a half-caress as the two of them slowly rotated, until they were facing the debris-shrouded Suescope. Serenity waved a hand towards it.

"See, Katryna _really_ doesn't want you to find this. Erebus and Chandra ... Well. They're nothing special, are they? As easily subdued as the rest of them. Now me, I _am_ special. She's a little scared of me, you know that? Like she is of you." Serenity leaned even closer, her hand sliding to the back of his head as their foreheads pressed together. She smiled.

"That's my deal, you see. I didn't challenge her, and I guard that little prize."

"Do not touch me," Richard jerked his head back, shaking her hand off. Serenity giggled and began miming speech for him again.

"'But how is that a deal, Miss Serenity? It's very one-sided.' Well," she nodded at her hand, a mock-serious expression on her features, "They broke the globe, for one. Oh, and of course – " she stepped back suddenly, her eyes narrowing as a cold smile crept onto her face, and she twisted her hand so the fingers were pointing directly at Richard's bound form, "I get to do _this. _**Crucio**"

He couldn't even try to dodge. The spell slammed into him with all the subtlety of a rampaging hippogriff. Sam squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't see, but the screaming wasn't as easily blocked out. The sound cut into her mind, accompanied by Serenity's laugh as she cast the curse again.

Again, even as Richard's screams lost any real human quality, degrading into a primal howl of pure, undiluted agony.

Again, as the shrieks died to little more than a strangled rasp.

Again.

_Again._

When the noise finally ended, Sam's eyes opened. She didn't want them to, but something overrode that desire. Her view focused on Richard, slumped against his bonds, his chest heaving. Sweat ran down his face, the drops sending tiny ripples through the fog as they fell. Serenity's fingers twitched.

"I like the part where he stops moving!" a chillingly girlish giggle echoed round the room again as she rose up over Richard's groaning form. Her eyes narrowed and she flicked her hands forward once more.

"Let's do it _again_."

Sam's eyes wouldn't even close this time. They burned; vision blurring with tears as she heard herself yelling at Serenity to stop, felt her throat tear raw with what she knew to be a fruitless effort. The pain didn't matter, barely even registered over what she could hear in Richard's fading cries. He was barely making any sounds now – the loudest being a sort of whimper. Spasms ran down his body, jerking his limbs erratically, followed by a faint click as the wand finally dropped from his fingers and vanished into the smoke.

Then he fell. The smoke bonds dissipated and he just folded, collapsing backwards in an ungainly heap. Mist swirled around him, but he didn't move. Only the faint movement of his chest and tiny twitches of his contorted features, showed any sign of life.

Serenity giggled again, then fog whirled up around her and crashed forward, washing over the fallen Richard like a breaking wave. Smoke whirled over him and suddenly she was there again, straddling him with her thighs. It was the most solid she'd looked so far – all aspects of a human figure in place except the feet, her legs dissolving back into the ground-level layer somewhere around the ankles. She leaned forward, insubstantial fingers brushing a light caress over his contorted face.

"You know half them were in love with you, don't you Richard?" she murmured, tracing his features lightly with a smoky finger, "I can see why. Good bone structure, thick hair, tall, broad shoulders." A weird sigh echoed through the cellar as Serenity arced back, strands of wispy hair forming purely to flick out behind her, dissolving at the apex of their swings. For a moment she was almost frozen in place, the two figures locked together in some twisted parody of Hollywood lovers and then Serenity leaned back abruptly, her eyes blazing again. A chuckle rippled through the air as she sat back with her hands resting on Richard's chest.

"I'm sure I can work with that." Lips formed and twisted in a bright smile; "Although, a few minor adjustments will be needed before I can call _you _home."

Sam let out a yell of horror as Serenity lunged forward, plunging her hands _into_ Richard's chest. The smoke in the room shuddered and _changed_, its movement suddenly directed rather than random as it began to spiral back towards the Sue, rising into her in thick trails. Richard's expression twisted even further beyond pain as Serenity sank into him, her eyes glowing brighter with every inch of smoke that vanished. A shudder ran through his body and suddenly his back arched off the floor, eyelids flicking open and releasing the faint yellow glow that was building in his eyes. His lips curled back, teeth bared in a silent grimace as …

… he started _changing_. Sam almost swallowed her tongue as she watched the dark surface of his chest ripple and expand, swelling up around Serenity's arms. His twisted features shuddered, jawline softening, cheeks rounding, as the dark spikes of hair topping his head began to lengthen. Serenity stretched out over the morphing body and brought her face close to his. The slit of mouth opened, spilling more light over the distorted features below her as, with a slow relish, she drew a nearly snake-like tongue down his cheek.

"Fight _harder_, Richard," she purred, "I want to feelit! Make me _work_." The smoke whirled round her like a miniature tornado, condensing further into the ever more solid body that seemed to be fusing slowly into Richard's chest. Serenity tossed her head back and gave a strange mewling sound. Her body was almost fully opaque now, leaving nothing more than thin threads of fog traced out across the floor, her now discernible hips grinding into the spasming form beneath her. She dropped down until her face was brushing right against Richard's cheek again.

"Don't rely on Adrastos," she whispered, "Or maybe you _want_ this. Yes? You're _mine_, Richard," her arms plunged even further into him, until they were almost chest-to-chest. Serenity's eyes were half-closed, as much that were possible for glowing slits, and she gave a low hissing sigh that swept through the air, somehow sending the last remaining trails of fog fleeing before it. She smiled and dragged her face over his again until her eyes were hovering directly over his unfocused, glowing gaze.

"You're fading," the word was nearly sung, "I _win_. I'll take you, _make_ you. Sometimes, I'll even let you watch. You are _mine!_"

Light began to gleam through the fog as a very _final_ kind of shudder rippled through Richard's body. The yellow light spilled out of Serenity's eyes and she laughed, high, tinkling notes like a child's giggle played through a windchime, as the light flowed down, thin rivulets of golden inevitability plunging towards Richard's eyes. The light swelled, intensity increasing with every fraction of time as it oozed closer, closer, its glow adding a brassy finish to everything it touched, even the silver. The final few strands of fog swept up into Serenity's glowing form and in the same moment Richard's eyes squeezed shut.

They snapped open again instantly but this time they were far from empty. Serenity didn't have time to even register the change as his left arm swept up, catching purchase across her solid _enough_ neck and forcing her aside. Pain washed across his features as her arms tore out of his chest, but it vanished under the determined scowl of effort as his other hand came up like a counterweight, a thin silver shape clutched in his fingers.

There was no way the Sue could dodge. The spork ripped up into her chest, shearing the smoke away under razor metal before coming to rest with both it, and Richard's right fist, embedded in her ribs.

Once again, the tableau froze. This time though, the scene was very different.

Richard's eyes narrowed.

"No Serenity," he growled, his hair retreating back to normal length, his chest subsiding again as he spoke, "You're _mine_." He gave a low grunt and the spork tore upward, slicing through the insubstantial flesh with a sound like tearing cotton

Serenity didn't even scream. The final expression, if one could be determined on that featureless face, was of pure surprise.

Then, with a very quiet yelp, the Sue imploded.

The spork glinted in the light, Richard seeming more to hang from it than provide it with support, then it fell as he slumped back. This time, he lay still.

Sam didn't move. She was still playing the last few minutes over in her mind, trying to come to grips with what just happened. _Richard … won?_

He'd actually won!

… and now he wasn't moving and she was stuck halfway up a wall with a haywire sense of gravity and … she could hear footsteps …?

She looked up – or down, depending on which viewpoint you were using – and her gaze locked on the doorway in the far wall. The heavy door they'd come through the first time she'd been in here was missing, but right now there was something else in the frame. Or rather, some_one_.

"Jackie!" Sam had never, ever, been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. The redhead looked a bit battered – her shoulders were torn and bloody, and there was an angry red crack across her bottom lip – but she was upright, moving and had both spork and wand drawn. There was also a rucksack slung across her back with a broomstick jammed through it.

The mismatched stare swung across the room, her eyes widening further as they flicked from Sam halfway up a wall, to Richard's collapsed form, then to the motes of fog still dissolving into nothingness around him.

"He won," Sam croaked, and Jackie nodded as she dashed over to Richard's prone form. There were a few tense moments as the redhead gently checked for a pulse, then gave a small nod and began rooting around in her rucksack. She produced something wrapped in gold foil and reached down, easing Richard up into a position more slumped than sat, but he was at least vaguely upright, leaning against her. She smoothed damp hair off his forehead and shook him gently.

"Richard? Hey, c'mon, you gotta eat this. It'll help."

The third attempt got a bit of reaction: his eyelids flickered slightly. Jackie seemed to take this as agreement enough to unwrap the chocolate and start trying to force it in between his teeth. She must have been successful, since the strength of Richard's eyelid flickers increased, and eventually one of them opened enough for him to focus on her. He started co-operating a bit more and Jackie finally managed to get him moved into a proper sitting position.

"Well, you look like shit," she muttered.

"… thanks …" Richard groaned and shifted, trying to take a bit more of his own weight. He had to settle for taking the rest of the chocolate, but he didn't complain. It seemed to be working, and his other eye was soon open enough for him to notice the mess of Jackie's shoulders. He frowned slightly.

"… you're bleeding …"

Jackie shrugged.

"Chandra's worse. Stunned and trussed up nice and snug, before you ask. And I even got to Field-prep afterwards. There wasn't much left, a couple of packs and a broomstick, but there's enough chocolate to get you back up to par."

"So, in order to aid my health, you're going to ensure I have diabetes by the time I'm thirty-five?"

"Well, you're being obstructionist again. That's a good sign," Jackie propped him up on the rucksack and stood up, "Finish that bar, or I will go seriously motherly on you. I'm going to get Sam down."

Richard gave a noncommittal grunt, but stayed put. Sam gave a low sigh of relief as Jackie made her way over. Now some of the earlier blind terror had faded, she'd been starting to get the feeling she'd been forgotten about.

After a few tries, Jackie managed the right counter-curse, and Sam's world gained the correct angle again. She accepted the steadying hand the older woman offered as they made their way back over to where Richard had started on another bar. Sam was furnished with a few squares herself, and could quickly feel the sweet warmth soothing her insides a little.

"Right," Jackie dug through the pack again and started applying some kind of bright green cream to her wounds, "Now, could someone _please_ tell me what's been going on?"

They told her. Sam did most of the talking, Richard seemingly content with the occasional clarifying grunt and technical term, but she faltered a little when trying to describe the battle's end. It was just too soon to have found the right words. Richard took over.

"She tried to Sue _me_."

Jackie blinked.

"But… you're already… and you're not, I mean, you're… _oh!_" her eyes widened and she stared at him in disbelief, "You… you let her get that far in? So you… you were actually… _Why?_" She asked, weakly. Richard finished his second bar and shrugged a little more strongly.

"Wasn't solid enough before."

"You _planned_ that?"

"Of course," he snapped, but Sam noticed that he avoided the redhead's gaze. Jackie blinked again and fixed a concerned stare on him.

"Are you okay?" she laid a hand on his shoulder. He shook her off and glared.

"I'm _fine!_" His expression softened slightly. "And, yeah, I'm … alright."

"Phew," Jackie gave a small smile, "Good. I don't think they even make bras that'd fit your ribcage, anyways."

"I like my chromosomes in their current configuration, thank you."

Jackie grinned and stood up, beckoning to Sam.

"Right, I'm going to dig that thing out before something else decides to go wrong. You – " she shot a pointed glance at Richard, " – are staying put."

He threw a sarcastic salute and leaned back, eyes sliding closed. Sam scrambled to her feet and hurried after Jackie, who was surveying the pile of debris critically.

"Healthy combo of magic and elbow-grease required here, I think. Let's get this cleared off before Sleeping Beauty recovers enough to start butting in."

Sam nodded. She swallowed as she looked back at Richard, lying against Jackie's pack.

"He- he is going to be okay, right? I mean, she really hurt him …"

Jackie flashed a tight smile as she began flicking her wand at the rubble.

"He'll be fine – _leviosa_– Field level three and above – _perfingo_ – have monthly Cruciatus training – _reducto_ – which _is_ as unpleasant as it sounds. That much – _leviosa_– will've been a shock to his system, sure – _fracta_ – but he'll get over it pretty quickly. Right," she holstered her wand again and stepped over to the table, "Help me clear the rest off, and we'll have a nosy."

Sam helped sweep the smaller heaps of plaster, brick and less identifiable debris onto the floor. As the Suescope slowly become visible under her fingertips, she couldn't help but stare. She'd never seen it close to before. Over half of the surface was silvery glass, covering a layer of something that looked like mercury, except for shimmers of the darker ripples that seemed to follow her touch along the glass. The rest of the golden top was a bewildering array of switches, dials and sunken balls, devoid of labels. Jackie leaned forward and blew some more dust off, sneezed, and flicked four of the switches.

The screen lit up. Jackie began sweeping her hands across the table, gloved hand on the screen, bare hand on the dials, and the screen responded to her touch. Patterns rose, swirled and vanished nearly as soon as they appeared. Sam tried to make sense of the shapes – she could swear there was _something_ there – but it was no good. Next to her, Jackie gave a quiet grunt, and Sam was surprised to see that she was sweating lightly.

"Damn! I never was very good with this thing."

"Here," another hand snaked past, dropping down over Jackie's on the screen. Sam scuttled aside as Richard leant over, reaching his gloved hand out onto the dials. His actions were more fluid than hers, but their hands quickly began to move in mirrored arcs, and the patterns began to rise again. This time though, they held. Sam watched in amazement as the metal seemed to drop away, leaving a rotating sphere of silver just below the glass. The surface rippled as familiar shapes rose out of it, tiny textures peppering across the instantly recognisable shapes of the continents.

It was a globe.

Sam leaned closer as she watched the tiny planet rotate, the British Isles coming into view, and suddenly that area surged upward, spreading out until a relief of the UK hung below the glass. Jackie gave a small grunt and the map shuddered, tiny flecks of light winking into existence across the surface like tasteful Christmas bulbs. They were scattered, for the most part, although there was a collection around the bottom left side of England, and … Sam blinked as she squinted through the glass. Near the top of the map was something very different to the other distinct specks of light. A brilliant smear of yellow-white light pulsed across a significant proportion of Scotland, thin trails stretching out towards it from all over the map and from a large cluster of individual lights close by.

"Show me," Richard muttered quietly, stroking the screen a final time as the view zoomed in again. This time though, the image wasn't smooth, but blurring and crackling like television static. Sam glimpsed a few brief flickers of some things that looked like trees, some half-obscured turrets in the background and a hint of strange violet, before the view degraded into silvery lightning and the screen went dead.

Jackie slumped slightly, catching herself on the table edge, and let out a loud sigh.

"Urgh. Anyone else feel like their brain just went through a mangle?"

"No," Richard rubbed his forehead and glared at the screen. There were dark circles under his eyes, but his features were set back into their usual determined scowl. He looked up and caught Jackie's gaze.

"We were right." There was little emotion in the statement, aside from an edge of resignation. Jackie swallowed hard and nodded.

"She's going for Hogwarts."

-x-

Additional disclaimer to the Potter Puppet Pals for certain lines.


	11. Into the fire

(Thank you to everyone who has responded, and the usual set of thanks to my betas)

Chapter 11 

The silence lasted just long enough to become uncomfortable. Sam kept her attention fixed firmly on the Suescope and tried to avoid looking up at either of her companions. There was some kind of wordless communication occurring there, consisting of a rapid sequence of frowns, facial twitches and meaningful stares, all utterly lost on her. She got the impression that the same train of thought was going on behind both sets of eyes, apparently with equal reluctance. Richard seemed to be glaring more, but that was hardly new.

Jackie broke the silence, and the stare, first.

"Okay," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "_I'll_ say it: how? Every fireplace is rubble, Sam can't Apparate and I can't get much further than Birmingham without risking a splinch. Field-prep had that thing – " she waved a hand at the broomstick still lying near her discarded rucksack, " – which won't get us far, and short of hijacking a plane there is no form of Muggle transport that could get us to Scotland in time!"

Richard half made to speak, but Jackie shoved a hand over his mouth before any sound could escape.

"No. We're coming with you, and I don't think you're in any state to pop off successfully on your own. Leaving your kidneys here while the rest of you lands off-target in Aberdeen will help _no one_."

"Did I say that?" Richard snapped irritably, his voice momentarily muffled by her fingers until he batted them aside. "I know what to do."

"We are _not_ hijacking a plane!"

"A little credit, please? Follow me." He span on his heel and strode back towards the shattered entrance, pausing only to retrieve his cloak and swirl it back around him as he moved.

Jackie watched him go and rolled her eyes again.

"Drama queen. C'mon Sam –" she picked up the rucksack and swung it over her less injured shoulder, "– let's get this over with."

Sam followed. She shot a last glance round at the wrecked room as she stepped through the entrance hole, and shivered. She really, really didn't like that place.

The journey back through the cellars was considerably less creepy than their initial trip had been. Sam couldn't help looking for undulating trails of smoke every time she turned round, but there was nothing. She didn't expect anything, not _really_, not after everything that had happened. But she stayed very close to Jackie anyway.

When they reached the shaft that led up to Scanns, the redhead seemed surprised. She whistled softly and started examining the walls, even as Richard began to climb back up the still-attached ropes.

"Interesting. Not Serenity then, this?"

"No. She had an _agreement_," Richard spat the word and glared down at them from a perch halfway up the wall. "Now, if you don't mind?"

Jackie regarded the ropes and shook her head vehemently.

"Not on these shoulders. Let's see if this thing works." She swung the broom out of her bag and straddled it, nodding at Sam. "Grab on, kid."

They beat Richard to the top. Sam barely had time to regain her balance before they were climbing down another shaft – the one previously occupied by Kate's gilded elevator. The actual lift had been shattered and half-melted to the back wall, but it didn't stand up to Richard's reductor hex. He vanished into the darkness on the end of another Summoned rope, the others following at a more controlled, if airborne, pace.

Sam wasn't sure if the descent took longer this time. On one hand, she wasn't sinking into the earth alone with a silent, icy figure, under unspoken but somehow very explicit threat. On the other, she _was_ balanced in a rather precarious position on the back of a broom, tilted at an unpleasant angle to fit down the shaft, and descending into unknown danger-housing pitch blackness.

Yes. Completely different then.

She compromised between the desire to shut her eyes and the cold fear of not being able to see any attack by spending the descent staring very hard at Jackie's back and trying not to see the bloodstains. When they landed, it took several minutes for Sam to ply the fingers of one hand away from the broomstick – the others remaining firmly clenched – and slightly longer before she could make herself look around as the torches flared into light. It was … anticlimactic. The room seemed to have escaped the destruction wrought with such abandon throughout the rest of the building. The old wine rack was still intact, the crumbling brickwork no more so than before, and the heavily-tethered ropes still hung limply from the ceiling rings, or lay coiled on the floor beneath them. Sam couldn't suppress a small shiver as her gaze reached the far table and alighted on the instruments laid out there.

"Don't move."

Richard's soft instruction came so suddenly that Sam jumped as she looked up at him. His jaw was set, eyes narrowed and dark.

"Why?"

He ignored her, turning instead towards Jackie.

"Give me your pack."

The redhead didn't argue and silently handed the rucksack over. Richard took it by a strap, weighed it carefully in one hand, then wound his arm back and hurled the bag out of the lift alcove and into the main room.

The result was abrupt, direct, and very, very fast.

"Ah." Jackie's voice was a few notes higher than usual, but Sam barely heard her. Her attention was too fixed on tracking the tiny scraps of shredded rucksack as they drifted to the floor, drifting in strange patterns around the ropes as they relaxed serenely back into their inactive positions.

"Katryna?"

"No. Kate," Richard replied grimly. "Auto-defences. Anyone comes down here not accompanied by her and those things will tear them to pieces."

"How come I didn't know about this?" Jackie muttered, annoyance clear in her voice. Richard glanced at her, and for a second his eyes swirled amber.

"_I_ wasn't sure. Besides, you've seen the wards around _my_ room. Now –" he slid gingerly to one side, " – as long as we don't move out of here, they won't touch us, but I'll bet an attack will trigger them to here."

"Is there a plan now?"

"It's only a spell," he muttered, seemingly ignoring her comment, "that aside, they're normal rope, I remember installing them. They'll burn."

"You can't shoot an _incendio_ that strong. And no," she said, and held up a hand quickly, "I won't. I've used too much already."

"I know," Richard's eyes returned to green as he spoke, "and I wasn't going to ask. Think killing the roots, though I will need your help with this, unless you want to wheel me to Scotland on a medical trolley."

Jackie glanced back at the faux-innocent ropes, understanding flickering in her eyes, and she nodded.

"Okay. Stay back Sam, I don't think there'll be any backwash, but better safe than sorry, eh?"

Sam did as she was told and scrambled to the back of the alcove. She had no idea what that had all been about, but anything that got her further away from those ropes was a good thing. The image swirled in front of her eyes, of the lifeless coils suddenly springing into deadly action, and she shuddered. Still, her curiosity was enough that she didn't go all the way to the back, craning round until she could see past her companions into the room beyond.

There were a few moments of quiet discussion, and then both of the older figures swung their wands out, tips held so close together they were nearly touching. Sam could hear Richard counting under his breath.

"… two, one - _Exuro__ ferris!_"

Jackie shouted at the same time, identical effort contorting her features as both wand tips flared and spilled what looked like streams of blue light into the air. The light swelled, flattening as it spread out before them, until they were standing behind a thin, shimmering wall of turquoise air. Both expressions twisted in identical effort as the sheet suddenly shot forward, sweeping dust into the air as it washed over the ground and hit the first set of ropes.

Whatever Sam had been expecting to happen, didn't. The blue light slid over the ropes, unmolested but ineffective, and continued forwards. The inactivity remained as it hit the second set, then the third, then the fourth and so on, until suddenly it was pressed up against the far wall, shimmering and useless.

Her lips started to move, words of confusion silently shaping themselves. What was the _point _of th-?

Jackie grinned. Her wand snapped forward, Richard's in perfect synchrony, as they both muttered:

"_Fundo_"

The heavy metal rings, sunk deeply into the brickwork, began to glow. It was gradual at first, a slight flicker of orange beneath the rust, but a few moments later every supporting loop in the room was red-hot and shining, scarlet turning to white even as Sam stared. She suddenly become aware of a strange low whine, as if something was building, getting louder every second …

She just had time to look up before the shimmering blue glow over the far wall turned white and the rings exploded. Droplets of white-hot iron seared through the air, splashing onto the floor, the walls, sending their animated-chord cargo dropping to the ground. The ropes writhed as molten metal turned their strands to ashes, acrid smoke rising as small fires caught here and there, and Sam could swear that somewhere in the background she could hear a strangely _clothy_ shrieking.

It didn't last long. After a minute or so, and after most of the charred ropes had stopped twitching, Richard stepped forwards into the room. A few blackened strands tried to grab at his ankles, but with the damage already done and nothing anchoring them, their attempts were futile. He blasted any that tried and the rest seemed to give up.

Jackie caught Sam's arm in hers and steered her forward, making sure the girl didn't accidentally step in any of the still-cooling drops of metal. Sam was glad of it. She felt oddly light-headed again, as if she was watching events over her own shoulder, and she didn't trust herself to be able to do a lot more than stare right now. They reached the big table, now pock-marked with burnt scars, where Richard was standing, staring upwards thoughtfully. Sam followed his gaze, and focused on the display plaque of severed wings she'd seen before. They were a little more battered now, but the feathers still gleamed in the torchlight.

"Is there a plan _now?_" Jackie repeated, letting go of Sam's arm. Richard paid her no heed and gestured up at the plaque. It shuddered, then pulled away from the wall in a shower of dust as the supporting brackets tore free. Loosed, the slightly macabre trophy floated down to the ground, landing heavily on one of the still-twitching ropes.

"You know," Jackie muttered, raising an eyebrow at Richard as he crouched down and began to feel around cautiously under one of the wings, "even for you, this is cryptically unhelpful."

"Indeed… ah!" Richard gave a short, triumphant nod and straightened up, pulling the wing free as he did so. Jackie folded her arms.

"And…?"

"Grab a feather. It'll bring us in about four miles away from the castle, so we just have to hope she hasn't got past the Forest yet."

Jackie's eyes widened and she darted forward, bringing her face very close to the wing with sudden interest clear on her features.

"But… these are _monitored! _Getting round the Floo supervision was hard enough, but how in Merlin's name did you get _this_ past those anal gits?"

"_I _didn't," Richard held the wing out, "Katryna must not have known about this one -" he cut off and, just for a second, an odd expression flashed across his face. Something a little like … relief? No, that wasn't right, it was more like-

- and then it was gone, the determined scowl settling back into its accustomed position, as if it had never left.

"Let's go," he muttered and roughly grasped a handful of the iridescent feathers. The others copied him, rather gingerly in Sam's case. The feathers felt strangely glassy under her fingers, crackling a little as the barbs crumpled in her grasp but she didn't have time to dwell on it, as the moment her hand settled in the sharp down she felt a sudden jerk somewhere behind her navel and the room lurched. A sudden sense of irresistible gravity swept over her and she let out a yelp as her feet left the ground, some hidden force taking hold around her and hurling her body forward. The room dissolved into colour around her as she plunged forward, fingers locked immovably into the feathers.

A sensation somewhere between vertigo and motion sickness swamped her senses, and then just as suddenly as it had started the whirl of colour broke apart, peeling back overhead as it vanished into darkness and Sam's feet hit soft, damp ground. She gasped, flooding her lungs with suddenly chill air, and realised that the glassy feathers were free in her hand again. She dropped them quickly and looked round, squinting as her eyes began to adjust to the cloaking darkness. As far as she could tell, they were outside, on a hill and more landscapes were curves dimly visible in the distance, but little else presented itself clearly. The night wasn't particularly overcast, but there was enough cloud to accentuate the darkness.

"Everyone alright?"

Sam turned, focusing on the tall figures silhouetted against the sky, and felt a shot of relief that they were around.

"I'm okay," she said, then realised there was still weight in her other hand, "and … er, I've got the broom…" she finished weakly. At least if she was carrying it, she was doing something other than being a handicap, surely…

"Richard, look," said Jackie, her voice cutting sharply through the night-time silence. Richard's eyes gleamed cat-like in the darkness as he turned, his attention fixed not on the barely-visible redhead but on something in the distance. Sam tried to follow his gaze. He was watching the horizon? No, that wasn't…

_What the …?_

Her eyes widened. The distant, pale line she had assumed was a brightening horizon was _moving_, undulating strangely as it surged towards them.

"_Down!_"

Richard's hands slammed onto her shoulders, full weight of his body behind them and Sam plunged face-first into the muddy grass. She barely had time to look up before _something_ shot overhead, all painful brilliance and unearthly shrieks, giggling, screaming, all at pitches the human ear objected to enduring. Sam caught a brief glimpse of a tumbling mass of yellow-white light, swirling with strange eddies, before her balance slipped and she went down again. When she managed to pull herself onto all fours without slipping, the screeching wave had passed. Jackie helped her upright, absently brushing bits of plant-life off her shirt as she did so.

"At least it was a soft landing …"

"It went that way," Richard snapped, either not noticing the glare Jackie threw at him, or not paying any attention to it. "_Lumos_."

Sam's night vision had already been wiped out, but the sudden light still stung as he swept past her, the wand held above his head like a sacred beacon. Jackie muttered something that sounded irritated and then lit her own wand.

"Let's go, before he Vanishes Mysteriously Into The Night."

They started down the slope, following the bobbling point of light. Progress was swift, if unstable, their feet skidding and sliding on the slick grass as they hurried to catch up with the shadowy figure. Not for the first time Sam found herself wondering if Richard's stealth was enhanced somehow, or if that swirling cloak was anything more than just a garment. Even holding a bright light above his head in the middle of the night he was ridiculously difficult to keep track of, and only became clear again when he stopped. Abruptly. Jackie dodged into the circle of light he was casting, and a moment's fraction later took a sharp intake of breath. Sam's heart skipped a beat as she craned round and saw the focus of her companions' attention.

It was a body. More specifically, it was Elsa's. The medi-witch was lying on the ground, still clad in the limited clothing her Sue had chosen, her black hair still braided around her fa-

_- _**black**_hair?_

As if reading her mind, or at least her intention, both Richard and Jackie caught Sam's arms at the same moment, preventing her from darting forward. His wand-hand still free, Richard muttered and sent four globules of white light in different directions. They hit the ground and stuck like semi-ethereal lamps. Even if the shapes that had been revealed briefly as the light passed over had been missed, the scene now illuminated was clear enough. Sam didn't notice as her arms were dropped. She was far too busy staring.

"What … what on …?"

"_Everyone?_" Jackie stepped forward slowly as she spoke, but the question didn't need a response. The redhead leaned over a pair of limp figures sprawled together nearby. They were just two, of the ghoulish carpet of immobile forms strewn out across the patchy grass. Richard surveyed the scene silently for a while longer, and then crept forward, moving down the clear spaces between bodies and muttering under his breath as he passed each one.

Sam didn't move. She wasn't sure if she wanted to, but her muscles had taken a decision independent of her brain and locked themselves in place. The Terrace. The whole _Terrace_, everyone, just…

"… are … they …?"

"No," Richard glanced around, his expression showing nothing other than a careful blankness. "They're all breathing. As for anything else…" he trailed off and continued his circuit around the low maze of flesh. A shiver ran through Sam's body, breaking the paralysis enough for her to totter uncertainly over to where Jackie was knelt next to one of the prone figures. She was very, very gently checking for a pulse.

"I found the Jennys," she said. "They're _brunette_. Kip looks normal enough." She moved back from the unconscious youth a little and sat back on her haunches, staring thoughtfully down at her impromptu patient. "I don't get it. Katryna drags them all the way up here with her, then just Suppresses them and sends them down for the duration? Doesn't make sense."

"It might."

Both looked up as Richard made his way back over to them. There was a very strange look on his face, something akin to suspicious disbelief. He crouched next to Kipling's prone form, then caught Jackie's gaze.

"My whole Field team is out there, and I almost didn't recognise them. Ivy's got no horns, Jo's down to the usual complement of eyes and there's not an extended ear tip of any kind in sight."

The stares held. Once again, Sam got the impression she was missing something significant.

"That's not possible," Jackie said flatly, breaking the stare to glance back at Kipling. "You, of _all_ people…"

"Let's find out." Richard gestured down at the unconscious youth, and his eyes narrowed. "_Ennervate_."

The blond shuddered. Then his eyelids fluttered and opened, even as the prongs of two sporks shot forwards to hover by his throat. His eyes were glazed and his expression stayed blank as he stared up at the grim, muddy, bloodstained faces above him.

"Wha-?"

"Who are you?" Richard snapped and his spork inched closer, "And be aware: I _will_ know if you're lying."

"I'm Kipling," he muttered, almost dreamily, and blinked a few times, squinting up at them as if he was trying to see through fogged glass, "and you, you're-"

The rest of his words vanished in a strangled yelp of terror. His eyes widened so far that they bulged and he sat bolt upright, apparently not noticing as the sporks' razor tips etched thin grazes along his neck. His hands locked on Richard's shirt, grasping frantically as if he were trying to claw the image of him away like some thread of a nightmare.

"You can't be here! She took them, _all_ of them! You can't … can't … so _many _…"

Kipling's fingers unwound as he fell back, eyelids slamming closed, and hit the ground hard. The slight rise and fall of his chest was the only indicator of life. After a brief moment of shock, Jackie leaned forward and carefully pressed her spork to Kipling's pale cheek. Nothing happened. No reddening, no blisters, no smoke.

Nothing. He didn't even flinch.

"It's … really gone," Jackie drew back, shaking her head, "I don't believe it. A _decade_, and we never managed that in one person. She does over two hundred in a few hours? _How?_"

"It's not the _how_ that I'm concerned about," said Richard as he stood up, holstering his spork, "it's the _why_. And possibly the _what_. They were already Subservient. Why remove them? Serenity was the only one who could survive outside -" he stopped. His eyes narrowed again and he looked up. Sam swang round, in time to see another writhing band of light surge over the hill. Now she was able to see it more clearly, she wished she couldn't. It _wasn't_ light, no matter how bright it appeared against the dark sky: it was _fog_. Wispy, luminous fog, with golden slits of light transiently visible within it as it swept forward. Sam caught a brief blast of the unearthly shrieking and then it was gone, sweeping overhead before plunging down behind one of the other dimly visible hills. Richard gave a low snarl.

"They _were_ Sues! They must be coming in from across the whole country!"

"_How?_"

"I don't know! But I intend to find out. Sam – " he swung round, eyes gleaming rather manically as he flicked a hand towards her, "– give me the broom."

"What about the others?" Jackie demanded as Sam stated to hand over her timbered charge. "You're just going to _leave_ them here?"

"They clearly don't matter enough for her to kill right now. They're safer here, as are the two of you." He made a grab for the broom, but Jackie had started dragging Sam aside before the words had even left his lips, and his fingertips fell short. He Glared at her.

"Dammit Jackie!"

"When I said I'd be at your back, I _meant_ it, whether you like it or not!" Her eyes flashed dangerously and suddenly she was in front of him, drawing herself up and closer until they were less than a centimetre apart. Anger crackled in the air between them as their gazes locked, and Jackie extended a gloved finger, jabbing it hard into his chest.

"I'm not asking to come with you. I'm _telling_ you I'm going. This –" she reached over suddenly, her bare hand capturing his own exposed fingers, "– holds as true as it did nine years ago. I'm not leaving you, Richard."

Richard shook his hand free, caught the accusing digit and shifted it aside in the same movement.

"We had no idea then. There was nothing in those silly pledges to cover _this_."

"There was enough. You aren't the only friend Kate has, y'know. I'll act on _that_ one, even if it kills me. Besides," a small grin crept onto Jackie's lips, "I'll hex you out of the air if you try and fly off alone."

For a moment, Richard didn't move. Then, incredibly briefly, the ghost of a smile reached his face and he released her hand. He stepped back.

"Alright. And _you_?" he turned, glaring at Sam so abruptly that she jumped at being the unexpected centre of attention, "You have any little speeches to make?"

"N-no…but… I'm coming!" Sam's fingers tightened around the broom as the words spilled out, "I can't … not after everything … I can't just _sit_ here! I won't get in the way, I promise!"

Richard looked at her. He sighed.

"I don't have time to argue. You steer, Jackie, and kid, you … be careful. And when things get worse, _run_."

"Things can get worse?" Jackie muttered. Richard gave a reptilian grin, and his eyes swirled black.

"Oh, things always get worse. _This_ is going to get worse in all new and interesting ways."

Had anyone been watching, the three of them would have presented a bizarre sight, Sam mused, as she clung to Jackie's waist and struggled to stay balanced. The broom wasn't new, and was protesting by means of occasional showers of magenta sparks from the bristles at having three people jammed onto it, even if one was hanging by his hands underneath. The ground rushed past as they flew, somewhat erratically, away from the fallen Terrace residents and rose towards the distant outcrop the wave of Sue had vanished behind. There was a faint haze of light spilling over the hill's crown, as if something brilliant was skulking ineffectively behind it.

Then there was the whispering. Not loud, never loud, but somehow very penetrating, sliding through the ears right on the edge of sound, if it even used the ears at all - and Sam half-suspected that it didn't. It was _tactile_, somehow. She hadn't liked to mention it at first, partly since she wasn't entirely sure she was hearing it, but by the time she realised why it seemed familiar it was already getting louder. She found herself trying to listen and blinked, shaking her head automatically as if it would shake out the cloying voices.

"Jackie?"

"I know. Ignore it."

"What _is_ it?"

"Fallout Influence, I guess," there was a strange hiss from the redhead, and an edge of strain in her voice that Sam hadn't heard before, "… getting worse the closer we get. Watch yourSelf."

Sam lapsed back into silence and concentrated on not doing things. Such as listening. Or paying undue levels of attention to the way oily static was starting to prickle across her skin. Or feeling the strange shifting sensation in her irises as her Ocular Cycle began to turn. She particularly didn't want to hear the _other_ whispers. The ones that were soft, whimpering, saturated with fear, and rising from the shadows at the back of her mind. Her Sue was terrified. Sam did look down, once, and quickly tried to pretend that she hadn't as she saw the insane kaleidoscope that Richard's eyes had become. There was strain on his features too, but not a lot was getting past the scowl and his cycling gaze was as fixed on the ever-closer ridge as it had been before. They were so close now, Sam's stomach was knotting itself into fresh loops as the horrible anticipation rose, waiting, just to see what lay over that hill…

It was at that point that the third wave, sweeping in from a different direction from the previous pair, hurled them out of the sky. Sam's muscles locked, panic freezing her in place as the broom bucked and shuddered, tossed round like paper in a hurricane as the world around them vanished in a wailing, screeching, howling mass of semi-solid mist. Unseen hands grasped at her hair, clawed at her skin, at her _mind_ as the whispering rose anew, deafeningly in its noisy silence as it wound through her brain. Never clear, never _really_ heard but _felt_ with every fibre and nerve and thought, and over it all the shrieking drilled into her, sending what remained of her own thoughts spiralling away into the ravenous mists – and then suddenly it was gone and the world crashed back, darkness, sound, chill air and _gravity _…

The rest of the descent was very busy. There was screaming, although that might have been her. There were _definitely_ trees. By the time the world gained the right axis again and Sam's back slammed heavily into the floor, 'disorientated' would have been far too generous a description for her state of mind. She automatically tried to rise, managed to get up halfway and staggered drunkenly, vision blurring in and out of focus as she swayed. Half-collapsed against a nearby tree trunk, she leaned her forehead against it hard enough to hurt and tried to keep her balance as she threw up loudly. That seemed to help a little, but she was still unprepared for the hand that dropped onto her shoulder and she leapt aside, shoulder slamming painfully hard into another tree before she could look up.

Black emerald gleamed, constant for just long enough before it dissolved back into the whirl of shades. Sam gave a small croak of relief as Richard swept an appraising glance across her. He looked unscathed, aside from a thin line of fresh blood drawn along the side of his face.

"You're alright." It was a statement rather than a question, but Sam found herself nodding anyway. _Probably …_

"Glad someone … is." Jackie emerged from the shadows, picking bits of tree out of her hair. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and this, coupled with the creases of strain strung out across her features, certainly made her look worse than Richard did. She raised a hand and waved a long shape in the air. "This damn thing … was trying to get rather too … personal with my kidneys."

She almost threw the broom aside in disgust, but Richard stopped her with a shake of his head.

"No. We don't know what's out there yet."

"Did you … see anything? Before we hit the … canopy?" Jackie asked, a little breathlessly. She was blinking hard. Richard glanced through the dark trunks, towards what Sam assumed was the way out, and his expression flickered.

"I'm not sure. Come on. Sam, stay behind."

As he turned away, Sam swore she heard him mutter something very quietly.

"… _hope__ I'm wrong _…"

They moved through the dark forest on foot. Sam very quickly decided that she didn't like midnight-shrouded plant-life and tried to keep close to one of the others, to avoid inadvertent branches. She couldn't avoid the sounds, though. The whispering had ceased to be so loud, even though it seemed to have merged into a general background hiss, but now there was something new – a high-pitched note, right on the edge of hearing.

"Jackie?" she muttered, "can you -?"

"Sam, please," the redhead's voice was audibly strained, "not … now, eh? I need … to concentrate."

Sam drew back, rebuked. She _was_ only here as long as she kept out of the way, after all, and both her companions always knew what they were doing. She dropped back slightly, so she was at the rear of the small group when they finally cleared the trees, and had fully expected to see whatever awaited them last. She was wrong.

Nothing could have hidden that.

The trees opened out here into a rough clearing cut into the forest edge, but it wasn't the sudden lack of foliage that was so obvious. It was Katryna, or at least, Sam _assumed_ it was her – there were a few differences since the last time she'd seen the Sue. Mostly the scale. The figure, sweeping across the dark grass in a way best described as a glide, was roughly the size of a house. She was glowing softly, like moonlight seen through cloud, and leaving a trail of the same misty brilliance behind her every movement. Pure white robes swirled aesthetically around her, highlighting her crystal-porcelain completion perfectly, as hair the colour of bronzed starlight cascaded down her shoulders, outlining her curves in th-

Sam's mind came crashing back down to earth as someone smacked her scientifically across the back of the head.

"Stay with us, kid," Richard growled, his gaze fixed on the massive, luminous figure in front of them. His Ocular cycle seemed to have stabilised, and the green was glittering in the glow spreading out from Katryna. After a moment, he swore quietly.

"I'm going to need a spork the size of a pitchfork to bring _that_ down."

"Or a cannon."

Richard snorted.

"Like cannon ever had any effect on Sues. I- Stop!" he held up a hand suddenly and crouched down, sweeping his cloak around his shoulders. His gaze went skyward and Sam ducked back into the woods just in time, as a fourth howling wave of condensed Sue rounded the landscape and plunged towards them. It skimmed the tops of the trees, before suddenly changing course and pulling into a horizontal skim as if dragged by invisible strings. Sam stared, caught somewhere between horror and amazement, as the iridescent wave slammed straight into Katryna. The Sue didn't even flinch. The wave didn't break but _folded_, swinging out and around the huge figure again, and again, and again, until nothing was visible but a rough shape shrouded in brilliant, shrieking mist. Then it condensed. The fog bubbled, rippling as it began to swirl backwards, like a reverse time-lapse film of some slow-burning flame. Whirling strands folded back, caught stragglers, melding into the luminescent form beneath as limbs became visible again, clearer, stronger, _brighter_.

_But it's still not right_, thought some tiny part of Sam's mind that wasn't panicking, _it's sort of fuzzy. Round the edges, the boundaries are wrong … like it's not _**finished **_…_

She saw Richard move, spork glinting in his hand as he lunged forwards.

She saw Jackie dart after him and stumble, pain flashing across her face as a thin sliver of silver went spiralling out of her grasp.

She saw Katryna turn, saw her huge eyes glitter brightly as the final threads of fog faded into her.

She saw the smile.

Then a shockwave tore the air apart. Sam hadn't even realised she'd been running forward, but suddenly the world around her_ changed_. The whispering exploded into a howling roar, the air condensing into something oily and harsh, wrapping around her so tightly she couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't even _think_ as the deafening voices called to her, past her, reaching into the back of her mind and pulling _it_ forward. Her Sue flowed over her, through her, every chamber of her mind echoing with the screams and the voices as she felt the shreds of her own mind whirling away in the mental hurricane. There was nothing left for her to hold onto as even her _name_ dissolved, cracking under the sheer force of Influence saturating her -

_ - Serena could feel it now, control, right there, just waiting for her. Sure, the surging waves of power propelling her forward weren't hers, per se, but this was better than the nothingness she'd endured in the last few months. It was so close now, so close she could taste it, feel the beautiful clawing wind on her skin, see the perfect light as She called her i-_

Silver glinted. The last threads of S.a.m. drew together, forcing a final movement from her failing limbs, and suddenly agony exploded in her arm. Someone shrieked with her voice, body thrashing madly but the hand held, forcing its prize even closer with the strength borne of utter desperation. The pain swelled, spread, blazed like a localised explosion held in her arm with agony like nothing before… _No_. No, it _was_ familiar, the icy burning somehow-

_Spork_.

Sam's eyes snapped open and she gasped, sucking in a huge lungful of chilly air as she scrambled back onto her feet. The voices had vanished. She glanced down, realising that her right hand was clamped so hard around something that it was cutting into the skin. Jackie's dropped spork was clenched between her fingers, blood welling around both the handle and the prongs buried in her arm. She wrenched it free automatically, the pain barely registering anymore and span round, desperately searching the scene for the others.

Her heart missed a few beats – although at least it was _hers_ again – as she saw the hunched dark forms a few metres away, but the extra panic didn't last long as Richard straightened up and swung his wand up towards Katryna's face. The Sue hadn't even moved.

"_This ends _now" Richard roared as his cloak fell away, light flaring at the wand tip as he stepped forward but it the same moment Jackie gave a strange sound, somewhere between a moan and hiss.

"Richa**rd!**"

Sam turned and yelped as her eyes locked with the upward-tilted, mismatched stare. Jackie's eyes were _glowing, _thin strands of red light darting out from her pupils and back, even as scarlet amber swirled up through her irises. Richard turned and his expression froze, horror leaching onto his features.

"_No-_"

"**_I…I can't …can't…c0n7r0l!1!_**" Jackie hunched even further; arms wrapped tightly round her chest as the glow started spilling out from her eyes. Her whole body was shuddering erratically, and suddenly there was a sound like a striking match, hugely amplified, and she screamed. The sound started off low, but rose rapidly as the air flared around her. Scarlet flames sprang up along her limbs, violent spasms rippling through her body.

"_Jackie!_" Richard lunged towards her, but was hurled back as a jet of flame caught him in the chest. Jackie screamed again, her arms and legs jerking out into a suspended spread-eagle as her feet left the ground, outlined in flame. Her arms flexed and this time the fire whirled about them, spiralling around her as she rose into the air, aura swelling, roaring … and suddenly the shape focused. A bizarrely-pitched screech cut across the landscape as massive, fiery wings beat a hurricane from the air.

The phoenix rose, brilliant golden eyes condensing from the flames as it screeched. Occasionally, the swirls of flame pulled back slightly and a dark figure could be seen in the heart of the fire, but not clearly.

Once again, Sam's body had reacted before she had time to think about it, and she found herself struggling to stay upright against the searing wind, shielding her eyes as she ran towards Richard's fallen form. He was starting to sit up by the time she got there, but she began dragging him back anyway. He accepted her grip and pulled himself upright, patting out the small flames still licking around his charred shirt. His eyes glittered, a strange gold colour in the fiery glow, his expression contorted horribly around them.

"_Shit!_"

"Wh-?"

"Why couldn't you **_bloody_** fools have _stayed behind_?" Richard snarled as he glared up at the avian inferno towering above them, still screeching into the night sky. Something in Sam's mind snapped, and she did something she never would have thought possible. She yelled at Richard.

"This isn't _my_ fault! I don't even know what's _happening!_"

"Two fully unleashed Sues, within a continent of each other? What in Merlin's name do you _think_ is going to happen, **_kid_**" The final word was spat with all the malice of a curse. Sam glanced up at the massive figure above them, and tried not to think about it.

_'… they're either dominant or subservient and they'll fight to the death not to be the latter …'_ Her stomach gave a weird lurch as she realised _who_ had said that.

"But … isn't that good?" she hazarded, weakly, "I mean, she'll fight Katryna …?"

"Oh, they'll fight," Richard said through gritted teeth, his eyes gleaming oily black, "and then _I_ have to kill the victor."

Someone apparently took that moment to replace Sam's insides with ice. Her jaw dropped.

"But, but Jackie's on _our_ side!"

"_That isn't Jackie._ Zitkalasa is _not_ on our side!"

x-x-

The monstrous phoenix screamed one last time and then, leaving a trail of feathery embers hanging in the air behind it, folded its wings and plunged towards the huge, iridescent shape that was Katryna. The Sue watched it coming.

And smiled.

x-


	12. Only Human

Continued thanks to all reviewers :) And my betas, for managing to fit this in amongst revision.

Chapter 12

Scarlet lances of flame thrust out across the landscape, trees bursting into cones of brief incendiary brilliance as the fiery waves swept through them, and hurled thick clouds of white ash into the boiling air. Every now and then, as the smoke moved aside the Phoenix burned against the dark sky like some ancient solar god, venting volcanic wrath down on Katryna's towering figure.

Sam was trying very hard not to watch. Actually, if truth be told, she was trying hardest not to choke, as any real _watching_ of the titans' battle was prevented by her being squashed face-down into a hastily-blasted ditch. One of Richard's elbows was jammed into her back as he tried to lever himself upright again after their headlong dive for cover. It has been close, and Sam was pretty sure that the last gout of flame had taken most of her eyebrows with it as it had passed.

The pressure on her back vanished as Richard succeeded in righting himself, and she was just able to roll aside before he was flung back again, his hair smouldering, as a fresh burst of hellish brilliance surged above them. Sam found an arm somewhere amongst the folds of cloak and clutched at it insistently.

"What's _happening?_"

Richard shook her off and sat up, patting his hair out.

"Katryna's winning."

That wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Gingerly, Sam eased up until she could see over the edge of the scorched earth. She was in time to see the Phoenix swipe a massive wing across Katryna's face, before arcing round back up into the sky.

She ducked back.

"How is that _winning?_ She's not even moving!"

"Exactly." Richard sat back heavily and Sam was shocked to see how pale he looked. Well, after all the events of the last few days he had a right to be _tired_, but … This was something else. His skin was visibly pale, even under the collected charcoal, mud and small wounds, and his eyes were hollow, with a strange look in the back of their kaleidoscopic gaze. Distractedly, he dragged his bare hand through his hair, dislodging some remaining ash.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured, so softly that it was barely audible, and his eyes faded to a dull grey, "I don't –"

Any more words vanished as an unearthly screech tore through the air, and Sam yelped, clamping her hands over her ears. It made no difference – the sound was either going straight past her fingers or it wasn't being transmitted in the traditional fashion. She jerked round, failing slightly as the horrible noise reverberated through her mind, and let out another yelp as she focused on the fight. The battle was still going on, but suddenly the whole scene was very different. Katryna had moved. One massive hand swept upwards, clamped like a glittery vice into the depths of a wing as the Phoenix tried to dive again. The firebird screamed and flapped its free wing madly, trying to tear itself free. Katryna smiled, happily, then turned and smashed the struggling form into the ground with tectonic force.

A sizeable swathe of forest exploded. Sam managed to get down a fraction of a second before the shockwave reached the trench. Super-heated sap and fragments of charred tree blasted outward, turning the air into a nightmare blizzard of incandescent shrapnel. The strip of sky above the ditch vanished in the firestorm and Sam pressed herself into the dirt, each new tremor shaking her to the core as Katryna hit again, _again_.

Abruptly, Sam found herself swathed in clothy darkness as heavy material dropped over her. Before she could even get her lightly-gibbering brain to realise what had happened, Richard's face materialised in front of her, lit strangely through newly-tattered areas of his cloak.

"Alright?"

His eyes were green again. Sam gulped and managed to force a nod. It wasn't exactly the truth, but what could she say? There wasn't anything else to do.

"Y-yeah …" Another miniature earthquake rippled through the surrounding ground and she jumped. "How are they not _hearing_ this?" she muttered, "I thought the school was near here!"

"Influence." Richard growled the word. He shook his head, filling the makeshift tent with a fresh scent of charred hair. "You felt how strong it was. The end of the world on their doorstep, and we're the only ones who'll see it."

"End of the -?"

"Use your brain, kid," he snapped. "You think she'll stop at Hogwarts? It's just the first step. The school, the UK, Europe and beyond – Sues don't know _how_ to have limits. The world - all toys playing out her games, acting her stories. It's all going to hell _and I don't know how to stop it!_" The last few words were shouted, and punctuated by Richard slamming his gloved fist into the ditch side. As his knuckles impacted, suddenly the all-pervading screech faltered, losing strength so abruptly that the unexpected release of mental pressure was unbalancing. The sound that replaced it was very different – a low, plaintive whine.

The world flooded back as Richard leapt to his feet, tiny eddies spinning in the airborne ash as he swept his cloak back on. Sam scrambled up beside him, squinting with prickling eyes through the smoke. The fight had … paused? Both combatants were still upright and surrounded by a large area of black-scorched earth, although the Phoenix seemed to be only held up by the hand wrapped around its neck. Sam didn't bother to wonder how a creature apparently made of flames could be held so – it had hit the ground solidly enough. The great wings beat feebly at the air, scattering a few sparks.

Katryna smiled. Then she plunged her free hand into the firebird's chest. Scarlet flame erupted around her wrist, utterly ineffective, as she seemed to search for a moment and then ripped her hand back with something clutched in the huge fingers. The flames didn't so much extinguish as _vanish_. One moment the Phoenix was hanging in the air, the next there was nothing but a few fading sparks drifting forlornly down to earth. Katryna raised her hand to examine the dark shape clutched there.

_She ripped out … But the heartwas** J** –_

Two tiny points of red light flared, illuminating the distorted, drawn, but still _familiar_ face surrounding them. Richard took a sharp, half-hissed breath, somewhere between exclamation and gasp, as Katryna closed her fingers around the figure. The was a very complicated movement in the glowing shape – Sam could have sworn that several of the Sue's fingers passed _through_ each other several times – and then there was nothing but her hand.

"She – she just –" Sam stammered, not quite willing to believe what her eyes were reporting. She glanced back at Richard and had to swallow a small cry. He was standing bolt upright, with every muscle in his face pulled taut. His lips were thin, furious lines, and a few small veins were standing out on his neck. His hand dropped onto the side of the ditch, the knuckles gleaming white through bare skin.

"Stay here."

"But -"

"_Stay here!_"

Sam recoiled. The command had _stung._

Without a backward glance, Richard vaulted out of the ditch and stalked forward, silhouetted against the rising trails of smoke. Sam watched him go. She felt torn between a mad urge to run after him, and the intense desire to curl up and sob until everything went away. What was going _on?_ First Kate, then the Terrace, and now …

Her eyes prickled hotly.

Now Jackie. She wasn't sure exactly what had happened in the Sues' battle. _'Fight to the death … I have to kill the victor …' Had_ Katryna won? The Phoenix had died, but Jackie had been moving before she vanished, hadn't she? And now Richard was heading right for the massive Sue, every inch the enraged avenger, but he'd _said_ he didn't know what to do! He, he _always_ knew, and if he _didn't_ then why was he-?

_… he's going to _**lose **_…_

Booted feet slammed down decisively as Richard came to a halt, barely twenty yards away from Katryna. The huge Sue didn't seem to have noticed him, and was staring at the horizon with a faintly distracted expression.

"Katryna! This night isn't over yet!"

Katryna blinked and turned, a brittle smile creeping onto her features as she re-focused on the figure dwarfed beside her.

"**Adrastos.**** I wondered when you would come to me.**"

Sam ducked back again, barely daring to breathe. Richard was stood at an angle compared to her position, his face highlighted in stark profile by the dying firelight. She'd never seen him so _angry_. His features were twisted very far away from handsome, narrowed eyes burning with a furious crimson that was somehow visible even over that distance.

"My name is _Richard_," he hissed, his wand suddenly in hand and pointing straight up at the huge face above him. Katryna sighed, rolling her eyes as if bothered by some irksome younger sibling.

"**Such a pity.**** I suppose you've come to stop me, _Richard_?**"

A bolt of scarlet light erupted from the wand tip in response and shot up towards Katryna. She didn't even blink as the hex ricocheted harmlessly off her and ignited a nearby tree. Richard whipped the wand round again and tried a different spell, sending what seemed like a wave of orange-hued air surging upward. That one ripped a huge gash in the ground when it bounced off. Katryna didn't seem to notice. She regarded her diminutive opponent coolly and then her lips twitched, as if something was vaguely amusing.

"**How very heroic.**** How very … Stu. You've never really been able to fight that aspect, have you, little residual?**"

Richard snorted. He lowered his wand slightly and Sam saw his expression flicker for a moment. He was changing tactics …

He had a plan. Sam caught a tiny thread of hope. He _had_ to have a plan …

"I am nothing like Adrastos," he said quietly, but the _force_ behind his words even made Katryna blink, "**_Nothing_**."

The Sue laughed softly. The sound washed over the landscape and Sam felt her skin crawl. There was something very, very wrong with that noise.

"**_Poor_ Richard**," Katryna sneered, "**Such a trial it must be for you! How about I ease your pain, for old time's sake?**"

Richard's eyes narrowed even further and the wand came back up.

"I won't play games with you, Katryna."

"**Good.**" She straightened and her eyes lit up, threads of a yellowish glow rising around her pupils. Richard took a step back, the tip of his wand switching aim rapidly between the increasingly bright points of light above him. Katryna smiled brightly and spread her arms in a corrupt gesture of welcome.

"**Adrastos Riddle! _I draw you out!_" **

Light exploded in her eyes and the air around the huge figure shimmered like a yellow-hued heat haze. Before Sam could see anything else her attention was wrenched aside by Richard's sudden scream of pain. Shock jolted through her as she focused on him. It wasn't just _Katryna's_ eyes that were glowing. Yellow light was spilling from Richard's bulging eyes and his face was twitching bizarrely. His wand dropped from shaking fingers, spasms rippling down his body so that his limbs jerked erratically, like a bad puppet, but his glowing eyes seemed frozen in place, his body shuddering around them as if they were fixed immovably to the backdrop. The air around him rippled and suddenly the intensity of his scream increased as thin threads of smoke began to rise from his body.

Sam couldn't move. She wanted to do _something_ but her body wouldn't respond. It was partly her own fear, but somehow Richard's cries reached deep inside her, prompting oscillating waves of terror from the Sue. That surprised her: her Sue was _terrified_.

All other thoughts broke apart as Richard crumpled to his knees, arms flung out in front of him. The screaming ceased, but his breathing was audible in the sudden silence, heavy, erratic, and as much of his face as was visible behind fronds of sweat-soaked hair was horribly twisted, his teeth bared and lips pulled so far back that his features took on a skeletal appearance. Smoke was pouring off him, the same thick, oily greyish colour that had become familiar deep spork wounds. This time though, there was no weapon and the smoke was boiling from every inch of his body. He was barely even visible, surrounded by a cocoon of greasy fog that was punctured only by two searing points of light.

Suddenly he grunted and the smoke _writhed_, contracting around him until it lay in a thick, shimmering layer.

"… so … _this _… is how … you did it …" The words were barely audible over the grunts that were all his voice had degenerated into. Katryna laughed again.

"**My, my!**** You really _are_ a strong one, aren't you?**" The light in her eyes swelled again, and Richard let out a fresh snort of pain. "**Let's test it**." A shudder ran through her and her arms widened even further. Her eyes flared.

"**_Come to me!_**"

This time he didn't even scream. Somehow, that was worse. There _was_ a sound, but it was a groan that echoed strangely within itself, as if there were two voices sounding at once and slightly out of synchrony with one another. His smoky shell rippled, tightened –

The moment froze as the hunched figure distorted, two nearly identical images overlaid on the world for a tiny fraction of time – and then they split apart. Richard slumped, but even as he pitched forward the smoke above him swirled and, just for a second, a pair of slashed yellow eyes stared out, horror-struck, before whirling away into Katryna's welcoming embrace. The smoke _splashed_ as it hit, but condensed quickly into the Sue's surface, like it had done befo-

_- no __-_

A tiny part of Sam's mind that wasn't blinded by near-paralytic terror noticed a difference. This time, as the new smoke blended in, Katryna looked more _finished_, some of the blur gone from her edges. _Very close now …_

The Sue's eyes dimmed and she looked down, an expression of gleeful scorn settling onto her smoothing features.

"**Such a pity.**** All that bravado, all that _posing_, and in the end you're no better than the rest of them.**" She crouched down and leant forward, the huge head swinging closer to Richard's still form. Katryna smiled.

"**Enjoy humanity, Richard. There's a few hours of it left.**" With that, the iridescent figure straightened up and turned, stepping impossibly delicately over the vestiges of smouldering forest as she resumed her earlier course.

Behind her, skidding erratically across the devastated ground, Sam ran. She wasn't even panicking – between the all-consuming terror, overwhelming confusion and repeated bolts of shock seething through her mind, there wasn't _space_ for panic. What remained of her thoughts were fixed on the crumpled figure ahead of her, although she didn't dare contemplate what she was going to find when she reached him. The actual distance wasn't far, but it took an eternity to cross. Her eventual arrival was less than graceful, involving considerable amounts of skidding and a final surrender of the knees as she dropped down, searching the hunched shape desperately for any sign of life.

_…_

_… he's not moving … he's not …_

Black dread rising all around her, Sam reached forward and brushed her shaking fingertips across his shoulder. The speed at which her hand was caught, wrenched aside and driven into the ground hard enough to send a painful explosion of protest from her elbow, was shockingly impressive. Richard went from crumpled to crouched over her with a knee on her throat without apparently passing through the intervening space.

A pair of impossibly still, single-shade, _normal_ brown eyes locked with her own, but for the first few heartbeats they were glazed. Then Richard blinked, and the familiar fire returned to his gaze. He looked down at her, surprised, and frowned.

"Sam?" his voice sounded as if it were arriving from very far away. Sam nodded as much as she was able to and he sat back very suddenly. His eyes unfocused again as he stared at his hands, and, cautiously, reached towards his face. Disbelief blossomed on his features.

"It's really …" he trailed off, then shook himself and stood up, wobbling a little. "You alright?" he asked sharply. Sam nodded, not really paying attention to the words as she stared at him. He looked … different. Not just the stable eye colour, although that was the most obvious change. His jaw was a little less defined, his hair suddenly an ashy mess rather than stylishly ruffled, and exhaustion was showing in shoulders set less harshly square than they had been before.

"She took Adrastos?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, and Sam recoiled automatically, but the rebuke didn't come. Instead, Richard just nodded wearily as he found his wand and picked it up.

"Yes."

"_Why?_"

"Because he's strong. Three-for-three …" he seemed to be talking to himself, and cut off suddenly. Sam followed his gaze, which was fixed intently on the palm of his bare hand. There was something there and Sam could see it now. A narrow strip of old scar, etched into the flesh …

Richard's expression flickered. His fingers snapped closed and he straightened up, properly this time, and set his jaw.

"Only human? We'll see. Sam – " his gaze hit her again, all the old determination burning freely in the halted shade " – I want you to go. Get back to the others and get the hell of here. The wing'll work well enough in reverse."

His next words sent a jolt of ice down her spine:

"Go to the Ministry. _Warn_ them. I don't care what you have to do, just do it fast!"

Sam's jaw dropped.

"The _Ministry?_ But – "

"_For once in your life, girl, do _**not**_ ask questions!_"

The shout was like a punch to the stomach, and Sam physically rocked before she turned and ran. She hadn't gone far before the tears started but she ignored them, ignored the scorched air tearing at her lungs, ignored _everything_ other than the image burned into her mind. The last look in Richard's eyes.

He was going to die.

He was going to face her again. He'd got no Stu, he couldn't _hurt_ her, but he was going back. _Why? Because of some stupid scar? Because he didn't know what else to do?_

_ Or because he's the only one who can?_

…

_But I'm here too_.

Sam's pace dropped, falling to a jog as her hand swung up, touching the ragged, bloody hole in her sleeve and prompting a fresh ripple of pain from the spork-wound. A few short months ago, she hadn't even known what one of the bulbous little tridents even _was_. She knew now. She knew a lot of things now, including that the fact that there even was a 'her' _to_ know was because of _him_.

Her finger twitched and she shook her head, as if it would fling out the swirling thoughts. He'd told, no, _ordered_ her to leave. She should leave, go back to the others-

_- and what? Have the world go to hell around me as I'm trying to get everyone awake?_

She stopped and tried to summon some enthusiasm for her task. Alright, so it took her away from the fight – it wasn't like she was being useful here – and at last she'd be _doing_ something.

_Yes. I'd be running away._

She looked round. She was near the treeline again, standing in the scorched area where the Phoenix had risen. Which meant …

A very quick search produced a slightly scorched broomstick. Before she could do anything with it, however, the crack of a magical ricochet broke through the air and she span round just in time to see a fresh distant tree ignite in a pillar of green light. Sam's heart missed several beats until another jet of light, this one blue, sent a shower of sparks into the night sky. Katryna didn't use magic like that. That meant Richard was still fighting.

Still alive. For now.

His words echoed painfully loudly through her head. _'Get the hell out of here!'_ She'd obeyed him unquestioningly before, safe in her absolute certainty that he knew what he was doing, that it was all planned. But now it wasn't.

_I can't just run away_.

The broom weighed heavily in her hands.

x - x -

"**You just don't know when to give up, do you?**"

Richard scrambled back onto his feet and spat out the clump of grass that landing had forced into his mouth. This was not going well. Whatever he'd been expecting, whatever scraps of ideas he'd thought even slightly possible; they all hinged on him being able to _do_ something. Nothing worked. Unforgivables, classic and less-well known; Horrifics; blasts of raw power from Light, Dark and the regions neither side wanted to claim responsibility for –

Nothing. Ricochets had left the surrounding trees in a variety of interesting shapes, and if his reflexes had been any slower then the last reflected spell would have taken off his head, but nothing he'd attempted had even put a scratch in that shimmering visage.

What had he expected? That something would just turn up? Well … yes. It usually did. Nothing was ever static, and he was very good at taking any sudden change to his advantage. But this was different. For the first time in his adult life, he was out of ideas.

He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the bizarre sensation of the irises remaining utterly stationary, and picked a verbal response. If he could do nothing else, he could stall for time.

She liked to gloat.

"I don't give up." He straightened up again, aiming his wand even as his gaze searched desperately for some kind of useful target. Of course, if his suspicions about what was stood in front of him _were_ accurate – and he was quite sure now – there wouldn't _be_ any vulnerable areas. An illusion couldn't bleed.

Katryna stared down at him, a small smile playing across her lips. She looked amused, as if she were being pestered by some foolish yet entertaining insect.

"**Maybe you should learn to.**"

His mind may have been uncharacteristically disordered, his subconscious unsettlingly void of its unwelcome lodger, but some instincts were ingrained so deeply that Richard managed to move a fraction of a second before she did. The result was that the massive fingers closed around his ankle rather than his neck, although the following rapid vertical acceleration would have been bad no matter how he'd been caught. His leg muscles exploded in pain as his bodyweight twisted them unnaturally, the ground dropping away below him as Katryna lifted him effortlessly into the air and held him there. Her huge fingers tightened, and Richard suppressed a grimace as he felt the bones in his ankle creak dangerously.

"**I've given you _so_ many chances, Richard.**"

This close, the voice was deafeningly loud, and he suspected the only reason his eardrums hadn't ruptured was the folds of cloak hanging over his head. He tightened his grip on the wand and tried to aim for the massive eyes opposite him. Katryna laughed and shook him like a toy, sending crackles of ligament-straining agony surging up his leg. His vision – and aim – vanished in the clothy darkness and he flailed at the cloak with a free hand, trying to push it out of his eyes. A sigh like the prelude to a hurricane swept over him and he felt himself be lifted even higher, until he was right in front of the twisted parody of an angel's features.

"**So many chances,**" Katryna paused, making a soft 'tsk' sound as if scolding a naughty child, but when she spoke again the playful edge had become distinctly icy, "**all rejected. I _was_ going to let you … No, not _live_ as such. Exist, maybe. For nostalgia's sake. It was such a _good_ story, after all.**"

Her fingers tightened again and this time Richard couldn't swallow the gasp of pain. Several bones were very close to their limits.

"I'm not part of your 'story'," he hissed.

"**No,**" Katryna said softly and the edge in her voice changed again, now to something like malicious delight, "**you were part of _hers_. Such a delicious tragedy, and you know what makes it so beautiful? You brought it on yourselves! It'll be hard to match _that_, dear Richard, even for me -**"

Something snapped. It wasn't his ankle. Richard hurled his cloak aside, a scream of indescribable fury boiling up his throat as he brought his wand up, his lips readying with every curse in his repertoire, priming to unleash a barrage of – probably useless – rage into that _damned _face, but in that moment the futility didn't matter, he didn't care, he just wanted to –

The first sound that broke the air didn't come from him. Both gazes moved, their respective owners sharing the flicker of surprise at the unexpected intrusion, and both settled on the indistinct shape speeding erratically towards them, emitting green sparks and a high-pitched, terrified yell.

Things _changed_.

Richard reacted first. He swivelled, snapped a curse so fast his lips scraped the end of the word and he heard Katryna shriek as black smoke poured out of the tip of his wand, wrapping around her face. It wouldn't last more than a few moments, but it didn't need to. He swivelled, planting his free foot firmly onto the glowing flesh wrapped around his ankle and swung the wand again, this time with a new target.

At the same moment his boot exploded, he kicked out hard with his other leg, forcing his foot out of Katryna's grip with an impressive amount of pain. Gravity regained interest in him a fraction of a second before the Sue snatched at him again and he twisted as he fell, trying to angle his plunge. On the one hand, he was furious that his last order had apparently been ignored.

On the other, he really, really hoped he had timed this right.

- x - x -

Screaming seemed the only sensible thing to do. Sam clung desperately to the charred wood beneath her hands and tried to find some way to knot her knees under the broom. It wouldn't exactly help with the near-overwhelming nausea, but it might make her feel slightly like she wasn't about to fall off at any moment. She fixed her watering eyes on her goal, and felt her stomach give another violent lurch – this time of horror – as she saw the flash of light, and watched Richard's dark form start to fall.

_Oh **hell**__…_

"_GO!_" She shrieked, trying to physically force the broom to go faster. The ancient wood shuddered in time with her stomach, the air screamed even louder in her ears – and suddenly the broom lurched horribly and Sam screamed again, wrenching at the tip as she tried desperately to get it back under some semblance of control. The broomstick lurched again.

"_What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?_"

Sam nearly fell off. Her eyes snapped open and she looked round and down, her jaw dropping wide as she focused on the gloved hand clamped just above the bristles. The stick rocked madly as Richard swung again, managing to get his other hand onto the wood. Narrowed brown eyes glared up at her, but Sam could see the repressed relief there and besides, she didn't think she could get any _more_ scared.

"I'm not running away!" she yelled, and then something caught her eye and she yelped, wrenching hard at the broom and sending it into a fresh mad spiral just above the trees as the huge hand swept through the air, missing them by less than a metre. Sam craned down at her sudden passenger.

"I don't know what to _do!_"

"Pull me up!"

"_But I can't _**stop!**" Sam yanked on the broom again, trying to force her eyes to stay open against the wind. What she saw did _not_ help. The broom's near-corkscrew flight had brought them around behind Katryna – who was brushing some kind of black fog away from her face – and they were heading straight for the glowing cliff of the Sue's back. Sam scrabbled for control and her grip chose that moment to give out. She nearly swallowed her tongue as she dropped sideways and she just managed to cross her legs tightly around the broom, leaving her dangling by the knees, her arms flailing down at the yawning drop below her. Her support shuddered and she took a moment out from panicking to see Richard above her, struggling to keep his own balance from where the broom's spin had carried him onto the right side of the handle.

"Hold on!" he shouted and lunged forward, gripping the wood tightly and wrenching the broom upward, trying to gain control over the dizzying flightpath. A fresh wave of green sparks flared from the long-suffering tail bristles and the broom lurched forward, swinging up wildly as the ancient spells strained against the sheer _physics_ of the moment. Katryna's back suddenly became floor as the broom went vertical. Sparks showered Sam's face and she shrieked, trying to shield herself, but the distraction had been enough and her knees failed. There was a moment of stomach-churning, erratic _depth_, and then Sam landed heavily on Katryna's shoulder. Automatically, she flung her hands forward and tried to get a grip to stop herself falling straight off.

She didn't fall off. Quite the opposite.

Sam yelped as her fingers sunk into the glowing flesh, as if she was clinging to a giant ball of luminescent dough. She pulled one back and it came out easily, trailing tiny lines of smoke behind it, but she'd had to shift her weight and her other hand plunged even further into the gleaming surface. A thin mental veneer of curiosity noted that, this close, the surface of Katryna looked oddly glassy. Rather like Serenity's globe had been when the Sue was diffusing around inside it …

The thought vanished, and Sam struggled to stand up, arcing her body back in an attempt to pull her hands free. It worked, but left her kneeling in a precarious position. She had time to experience the fascinating combination of vertigo and mind-numbing panic before the surface beneath her knees gave up on integrity and she started sinking again.

"Sam!"

Sam's head shot up as Richard dropped out of the night sky, bringing the broomstick around until it was hovering next to her, still giving off sparks. He leaned over, bracing one foot on the surface as he reached over towards her. Sam stared, momentarily distracted.

"You're not sinking!"

Richard finally seemed to notice that Sam was knee-deep in Katryna's shoulder, and he blinked. Something akin to realisation flashed across his face.

"I was _right_," he muttered, "It's a _shell_- Quick- " he broke out of the thought, "– or she's going to notice – "

"**Richard!**"

Sam clamped her hands over her ears automatically at the assault of the thunderous voice, then let out another cry as she dropped even further down. The sensation around her legs was bizarre, like static-cling creeping across her skin, but she didn't want to _sink!_ The image of Jac – Zitka – _whoever_ vanishing into Katryna's hand earlier flashed across Sam's mind and she renewed her struggles, even as she could feel Katryna start to turn …

"Grab my hand, kid!" Richard commanded, bracing himself again against the glowing surface as he reached for her. Sam goggled at him.

"Wh-why aren't you –?" she stuttered, desperately scrabbling at the air before his hand.

"I'm not a Stu anymore!" Richard lunged forward and grabbed her hand, clamping it tightly between his fingers, "I don't – Hey!" he exclaimed as he slipped, his foot suddenly starting to sink. Automatically, he let go and Sam shrieked as even more of her body disappeared beneath the glowing surface.

"**Get off me!**" Katryna's voice boomed and Sam's eyes widened as a massive hand swung across the shoulder towards them. They'd be _crushed!_ Richard saw it at the same time and for a moment his expression flickered.

Then he leapt off the broom and dived towards Sam, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, and pushed _down_. She didn't even have time to cry out as all resistance failed and she plunged downwards into the blinding glow, Richard on top of her. The surface healed over behind them just as Katryna's hand sliced through the air they'd been occupying seconds before.

Sam felt as if she'd been submerged in luminescent syrup. The blinding light was somehow thick, heavy, clutching at her as she slid ever downward into its embrace, sending electric prickling across her skin where it touched. She had to fight a strange urge to giggle as she half-wondered if they'd just keep on falling until they tumbled out of Katryna's ankles.

They didn't.

- x -


	13. Heart of Sue

****

Chapter 13 – Heart of Sue

Their landing was less than graceful. The cloying brilliance vanished so abruptly that Sam barely had time to realise it had gone before she hit solid ground, and was promptly squashed as Richard came down on top of her. There was a moment of confused limbs and then the pressure vanished as she was pulled upright.

Her eyes wouldn't open. The light filtering through her lids was considerably too bright for the levels outside and she wasn't sure she wanted to know where they were.

"Well, this is different."

That was enough. Summoning her tattered nerves, Sam forced her eyes open. As soon as the lids were far enough apart to allow a clear picture, she suddenly found the problem became preventing her eyes widening so far that they met the nape of her neck.

She was standing in a vaulted corridor, apparently carved out of flawless, if glowing, golden marble. It was so far away from what she'd been expecting, dreading, that she had to blink a few times before her brain would accept the image.

"Wh-?"

"The questions? Not helping." Richard stepped closer to one of the walls, wand drawn and peered closely at it. Sam looked down, feeling a burn rise onto her cheeks. It was a ridiculous time to feel embarrassed, but…

…

…

…_what the…?_

There were patterns moving below the muddy remnants of her trainers. Under the marbled surface, eddies swirled in the glow, twisting in lazy ripples. Despite herself, Sam leaned down and stared. It was as if the floor was actually very thin, a layer of clear glass, over some shifting substance akin to golden smoke, peppered with luminescent dust. The patterns whirled again, like threads of ink spreading through water, and as she watched she could nearly see shapes.

She _could_ see shapes. Or rather, she could see _figures_.

Sam straightened up, feeling the giddy edge of panic rising anew around her stomach, and had to fight the urge to try and simultaneously raise both feet.

"R-Richard…?"

"I know."

She span round. Richard was still staring at the wall, but this time his gloved hand was resting on the surface. Behind it, or inside it, whichever was the most accurate, his pose was being mirrored by a figure in the smoke. The body-shape was familiar: humanoid but _distorted_, disproportional in limbs and bust and with strands of hair pouring away from a featureless face back into the surrounding smoke. The difference was in the eyes; namely that there weren't any. The face was blank, with flat fog where the jagged slashes of gold should have been and the empty mouth hung open, not far enough to give the impression of speech or cry but enough to form the only distinguishable feature.

The figure wasn't alone. There were more, less distinct and more transient but _there_, condensing out of the mists for long enough to turn empty faces towards the wall, before dissipating again. Sam watched the main figure give something that was almost a shudder before sinking back. The silent mouth was the last thing to vanish.

Richard stepped away from the wall, his own face almost as blank as those foggy features.

"There's so many of them," Sam said softly as she watched the hazy shapes spin. "What are they doing?"

"It's all twisted up –" Richard muttered, but he seemed to be ignoring her, "– and the eyes… No –" his head snapped round, his gaze focused somewhere several inches behind Sam's head "– no, it _is_ flesh. Just not like ours. She's pulled them in from the whole damn country and now _they're_ the body!"

"Er… pardon?" Sam ventured. Richard nearly jumped and shook himself, re-focusing on her face. He blinked a few times, then selected a glare.

"Thinking out loud, kid, don't worry. Don't have a pensive to hand."

"What's going _on?_"

Richard gave a low growl as he swung a hand accusingly at the wall.

"_This_." His expression softened microscopically as Sam just looked more confused. "We're inside… Well, we're inside. I don't know what to call it, because it shouldn't be possible. This is _Sue_, every inch. Katryna's got them so tied to her they're forming the _walls_, and that shouldn't work! They shouldn't be able to exist like this."

"But she, I mean, outside, she was _big_, but she wasn't a shape that had _corridors!_" Sam knew she was gabbling, but didn't make much attempt to stop it. She had a horrible suspicion that if she didn't let the tension out some way, she'd explode.

Richard shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. The shape isn't real, I don't think. Not properly, so there's no weak points. It's like a pearl being made by the bit of bloody grit! She'll be in here somewhere, the heart of this whole thing. And that's where I need to go."

"And… me?" Sam asked, hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You want to stay _here_?"

She glanced at the wall again, and shivered.

"No."

With a small nod, Richard drew his weapon again, spinning the wand absently round his bare fingers as he glanced around. Sam edged closer to him, and stayed close when he moved off. She couldn't avoid walking on the floor, but she could try not to look at it. Or at the walls. In the flawless, soft glow of their surroundings, Richard presented a slightly battered dark smudge on the gleam. She watched him, noting the emphasised stamp of each footstep and the expression of bloody-minded determination etched onto his features. Maybe she could trick herself into finding his resolve comforting.

Any attempt to synthesise that line of thought faltered each time Sam's treacherous gaze flicked over to the walls and she saw the currents writhe. She couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being _escorted_ somehow, because she was increasingly sure that the smoke rippled more alongside them than it did behind. It would have been unnerving, had she still retained enough intact nerves to justify the expression's use.

Then there were the corridors themselves. Twice as high as a man and wide enough for three people to walk down comfortably, they branched at unexpected points and always seems to be sloping downward at the furthest reach, yet remained ice-flat no matter how long they walked towards the apparent dip. Three times, Sam turned round to find herself looking straight into a blank wall or a branching junction that hadn't been there before. She didn't mention it to Richard; he looked worried enough. There was a strange tension in his face and his lips twitched occasionally, as if there were words there barely held back.

He came to a stop very sharply. His bare hand twitched, and when he spoke, his words were quiet and clearly not meant for her.

"It still holds. We all promised. But I need a _sign_ –" he cut off as the laugh started. Low at first and somehow it _felt_ low, as if it was bubbling up from around their ankles, but it didn't stay that way. The sound rose, up in pitch and focus until it danced in the air around them, tinkling with the delight of shattered crystal.

_"Childish pledges went out with the toy box, Richard."_

"I wasn't talking to you."

_"I'm the only one here. I only ever was."_

A small muscle twitched under Richard's eye and he aimed a Glare at the wall.

"What's wrong, Katryna? Am I _scaring_ you?"

The tinkling laugh that followed rocked the floor. Ahead of them, the wall shimmered and fell aside like a curtain, exposing a new tunnel. It seemed a little more solid than the previous ones, and the dip at the end shimmered less to the eye, and…

The walls were guarded; or at least _lined_. Blurry figures in the smoke queued up like subliming statues, packed shoulder-to-shoulder and closer behind the solid veneer, hunched together as if hanging loosely from invisible strings.

_"I can make them dance for you, Richard. One puppet to another."_

He didn't even blink. Something like a sigh ruffled the air and when the voice came again it sounded slightly affronted.

_"Be that way. Do hurry, _dear _Richard. We're waiting."_

The voice faded. For a tiny fraction of a second, Richard didn't move. Then he span round so fast he nearly blurred and ducked down, catching Sam's shoulder hard enough to hurt. His gaze locked with hers.

"I know what you think of me, kid. Forget it. I'm not a hero, and I don't train heroes. What I _am_ is bloody good at what I do, which isn't pretty. I'll do my best to keep you out of this, but if we're into the final seconds and you're between me and a clear shot – that shot goes through you. Understand?"

Sam gulped.

"Yes."

Richard gave a tight nod. He looked up at the new tunnel and the strange strain was momentarily in place again on his face. His expression hardened, his fist tightened and he stood up, striding forward in one smooth action, his outer robes trailing behind him as if they were trying unsuccessfully to catch up. Sam at the silent faces in front of her. She was trying very hard not to be sick from fear. Not that it would have made much difference – she hadn't eaten anything since… when? The guesthouse sandwiches? A little over a day ago.

If time flies when you're having fun, it barely even crawls when you're running on fear.

She shook off the thought and dashed after Richard. Staying behind was unthinkable. _Even if I'm no use, I'll at least be there. That counts, right?_

The silent Sues didn't move as they went past. This time the corridor end got closer with each step, until the walls splayed apart as the ground tilted beneath their feet, the space opening out into a forest of thick golden pillars. Richard threaded his way through them without a word, Sam scurrying behind him. She glanced at the pillars, unconsciously searching for more ghostly shapes, but the glossy substance seemed thicker here and nothing was visible within. They rounded another and Richard swung out a hand, pulling Sam to a halt with a grasp to her shoulder.

She was too busy staring to notice. A perfect circle of space opened up in front of them here, surrounded by a winding wall of pillars lashed erratically together as they spiralled upwards. No ceiling was visible – the mesh of columns winding upwards until they vanished into the brilliant golden light that poured down from above. Sam couldn't shake off the impression that she was standing on the edge of a gilded funnel-web, woven of gold and light and marble. The resemblance was carried further by the figure tangled in the gold several metres off the ground.

Richard's intake of breath was so sharp that it hissed, and his hand shot out again, blocking Sam's automatic half-step towards the suspended shape. It took a lot of effort to push down her urge to run over, do _something_.

It was Jackie. Or Zitkalasa, or _whatever_; that wasn't the point, the point was that she was _here_, she was _intact_ and she was – hopefully – _alive!_ And hanging from the wall, apparently unconscious, but still –

"Amazing, Richard. Even _without_ a Stu, you manage heroic timing."

Both watchers turned and suddenly Katryna was there, standing in the centre of the circle. She was perfect. Soft golden light surrounded her, adding shimmering highlights across the flawless form that seemed cut more from bright ivory than from flesh. White-blonde hair, rippling and drifting like silk, flowed down her back and caressed her curves, brilliant even against the surrounding light. She was clad in a blue-white gown, tailored to every line of her, her feet encased in delicate shoes spun from threads of silver. As she faced them, an angelic smile rose onto her face and her large, platinum-grey eyes focused on them.

Fixated in the perfect stare, Sam suddenly felt very shabby. She fought the urge to stare at her feet, embarrassed at the idea of even _daring_ to stand before this-

_No. Not again._

Her teeth creaked as she clenched them and forced her head to stay up, eyes starting to water as she kept her attention fixed. Katryna wasn't looking directly at her – thankfully – and she didn't want to consider how difficult this would be if she were. Next to her, Richard swapped spork hands, so the handle was nestled in his bare palm. A little of the strain left his features and his eyes narrowed.

"Give up, Katryna, and I'll make it quick. For old times' sake." The last few words were spat. As a response, Katryna laughed brightly.

"_Snappy_ comeback. One minute, then I'll play hostess." She turned and raised her arms, her eyes lighting up and focusing on the still form hanging above her. The figure shuddered as its eyes snapped open. One look at the expression that contorted the familiar features told Sam exactly what she'd been dreading: it wasn't Jackie. Zitkalasa's eyes burned scarlet and she hissed down at Katryna, visibly struggling with her bonds.

Richard started to move. Without a glance, Katryna waved a hand, and the cloaked man was knocked back as the floor erupted in front of him, a dome of faintly-gold tinted transparent material swirling up and sealing over the two watchers. Richard growled and leapt to his feet again, lunging at the almost-glass with his spork, but Sam was still watching the scene outside their new prison. She saw Katryna's eyes catch light, mirroring the brilliance above, saw Zitkalasa writhe as she tried to avoid the stare, but it was too late. The flame-haired Sue's eyes lit up and she shrieked as a huge spasm rippled down her body. Smoke rose, wrapping around her in thickening tendrils until she was obscured by a heavy cocoon, broken only by twin points of searing gold.

_Just like before_.

Katryna smiled as the redhead spasmed once more, and then the smoke split away, a humanoid figure in oily fog swirling towards the centre of the room even as her misty hands snatched back at the limp body. Zitkalasa swivelled as she was dragged through the air, the slashes of furious gold blazing across her face. They widened as Katryna made a beckoning gesture and the second Sue screamed, clutching at her face, but it was too late, light spilling between her fingers and crackling towards Katryna in twin streaks of lightning. The bolts danced in the air around the impossible blonde and she smiled happily. A strange shiver ran through Zitkalasa's hovering shade, her hands dropping limply to her sides.

Her face was as blank as the others' had been. She hung in the air for a moment, empty mouth gaping, then upturned and plunged into the floor, vanishing into the flawless surface. If any expression was evident on the featureless face, it was resignation, and then she was gone.

A moment later, the shield around them shattered as Richard finally slammed the spork through. He stalked forward instantly, his gaze flicking upward.

"Jackie?" he asked, warily.

"Oh, come now, Richard."

Richard stiffened as Katryna spoke, turning towards him with a bright smile on her face. Tiny gold sparks orbited her, slowly fading into her general glow as they moved. Richard's eyes narrowed.

"What?"

Katryna laughed again, softly this time, as if at some private joke.

"You really believe it, don't you? How _idealistic_."

"I don't have time for this – "

Katryna snapped her fingers. Above her, the pillars drew apart silently and Jackie's bonds tightened, drawing her back into the space. The wall sealed again just as rapidly.

"No!" Richard lunged forward, then span round and sprang at Katryna, wand out and spork clasped so tightly in his hand that it shook. His features twisted.

"_Bring her back!_" He swung the spork up, holding it like a dagger as he advanced on the luminescent figure in front of him. Katryna watched him, and giggled.

"Bring her back? You don't get it, Richard. There _is_ no 'her'. No Jackie, no Terrace. No _Kate_, and there never was. It's just you, _Richard_, you and me. We're _special_. Oh, and your little toy? Outclassed." She raised her hands. Behind her the floor _boiled_, sending bronzed spheres of light bubbling into the air.

Sam's heart skipped a beat as she saw what each sphere contained. Richard froze, shock riveted onto his face, and he took a step back. Inside each sphere, a spork gleamed in the strange light. There must have been over a hundred.

Katryna smiled brightly.

"You know one of them was carrying _eight_ of these? You instil impressive paranoia in your minions, Richard. A shame to waste it." She leaned forwards and behind her, the sporks swarmed. "Now tell me, how _exactly_ did you hope to stop me?"

"Any way I can." Richard's fingers twitched on his wand as he trained it on Katryna. The Sue sniggered.

"You're all alone, Richard. Always were, really, but even the comfortable illusions have gone now. I don't – "

"I'm here."

Both figures in the circle turned, similar expression of surprise on their faces as they both noticed Sam as if for the first time. She tried to match the stares, hide the fact she was trembling violently. What in the world had made her say that?

Well… she _was_ here. And she was probably going to die anyway, so what the hell:

Sam raised a shaking hand and pointed at Katryna, who was regarding her with a look of pure disgust.

"And she's lying. _This_ is the illusion," she waved nervously at their surroundings, trying to stop her voice from cracking as she spoke, "and it's rubbish."

That was all she could manage. Her vocal chords stopped functioning as she saw the expression of loathing on Katryna's flawless features. In that moment, she didn't look at all beautiful.

"Succinct. Allow me to return the favour, _Serena_. Die." Katryna flicked a hand and the swarming sporks shot forward. Sam's muscles seized up as she watched the razor tips glint. She'd be shredded –

Richard moved. He lunged round, wand whipping through the air so fast it hissed as he snapped a spell. An invisible wave caught around Sam, hurling her bodily aside so violently she skidded when she hit the floor. She rolled badly, hands scrabbling on the glassy surface as she tried to get back onto her feet. A sound with extremely unusual harmonics rippled through the air and Sam splayed herself out, hugging the floor tightly enough to bring herself to a halt. She looked up as Katryna's eyes blazed, saw the Sue scythe her hand round again, and the sporks' path changed. They swooped round, spiralling towards their new target.

There wasn't time to dodge. Golden bubbles burst as they hit, releasing the deadly tridents. Silver plunged through heavy blackness as the swarm slammed into Richard. The sheer force of impact hurled him backward, a small cry escaping his lips as more sporks hit, slicing into him again, again, _again_, smashing each other aside even as repeated blows sent him stumbling, buckling, backward. He collapsed, the final few bubbles releasing their razor burdens strongly enough to send the crumpled form vanishing into the forest of pillars, which promptly started to close after him.

Sam hit the front pair just too late. She barely remembered standing up, yet alone running, but suddenly she was there, scrabbling ineffectively at the melded surface that had been a gap. No, no, no, no, no! That _did not_ just happen!

It _couldn't_ have happened! How… how could she have _sporks?_ They-she-everything-

_Richard!_

She dodged to the side, searching for another way into the maze of columns, and then froze as a soft laugh came from behind her. She'd actually forgotten. The thought sent a tiny giggle of sheer nerves escaping from her lips as she turned.

Katryna was watching her with a malicious interest.

"How _heroic_. How pathetic," she laughed. "It was such a _good_ story in places. And with sentimental value, of course. Now," she said, ice creeping into her voice, "you've been an irritation since you arrived, _Serena_, and amusing diversions aside, I am rather busy –"

Sam didn't wait to hear anything else. She darted aside, throwing herself into the nearest gap she'd spotted, clearing the pillar just as something hit the column behind her with a sinister rush of air. Green sparks scattered over her heels and Sam stifled a yelp as she dived headlong through the golden forest. At first she tried to angle her run, to try and get back to where Richard was… She refused to think any further about what she might find.

The vague plan didn't work. She'd barely run a few metres before the columns opened out again into the circle and she flung out her arms, swinging herself back a split second before another flash of green sizzled past her so close it left after-images across her vision. The hiss that accompanied it was almost as bad as the greasy whispering in the air. _What the hell? The room was _behind_ me!_

She scrambled backwards and ran again, this time taking nearly seven steps before the room opened in front of her, but managed to avoid presenting a target. Her heart hammered against her ribs and she could feel wet heat on her cheeks, but she tried to ignore both. _Think, Sam, think. This isn't real, so direction isn't normal…_

…and I am really, really in trouble. _So now_ –

"I'm getting bored now, Serena."

Sam yelped as she felt the pillar behind her shudder. She leapt away as it plunged into the ground, vanishing instantly. She managed to get behind another one, which promptly sunk as well. A laugh echoed through the remaining forest.

"This is my turf, little Serena."

"It's _Sam_," Sam muttered, and squeaked again as two more columns plunged into the ground. Her cover was getting very sparse. A new sound broke the air, the soft, rhythmic click of heels. Sam turned just as the final pillar behind her dropped away, leaving her in an open space in the forest line, and felt her heart skip several beats as she focused on Katryna walking smoothly towards her with one hand extended. Sparks crackled from the tips of the Sue's nails.

Sam didn't wait. Overriding her shaking muscles by sheer force of panic, she turned and launched herself away from Katryna, running for the open space away from the Sue. She sprinted out and skidded to a horrified halt. Katryna was standing on the other side of the circle she'd just entered. She had just run out of one side of the room, and straight into it again from the other direction. Direction really _didn't_ mean anything in here.

Katryna turned round and smiled brightly.

"Slow on the uptake, aren't we?" She looked scornfully down her perfect nose at Sam. "Such an anticlimax. And how were _you_ planning to stop me, little Serena?"

"Keeping you distracted was a good start."

Both women turned, identical shock on their faces as the dark figure stepped out of the pillars nearest to Katryna, weapons drawn. Richard looked awful – there was blood running down his face from a series of gashed wounds, part of one ear was missing and his robes looked like they had been through a shredder. That aside, he was unbelievably intact.

Sam forced herself not to sag with relief. Katryna's reaction was a little different.

"No!" The Sue stared at him, utter disbelief plastered across her face. "That's not possible! No one could survive that!"

"Heh," Richard's smirk was visible even under his injuries, "Nearly right. No _Stu_ could survive that, but, thanks to you –" he spread his arms, a little shakily, "– that doesn't apply to me anymore. I'm _human_, Katryna. I should probably thank you for that."

"Save your breath." Katryna's hand flicked out, sending a jet of scarlet rippling towards him. Richard didn't try to dodge and instead hurled himself forward into a low roll, carrying him underneath the blast. His tattered robes whirled around him as he straightened up right in front of Katryna and lunged. Silver flashed and the Sue gave a cry of shock. Her arm arced out; catching Richard so hard across the chest that it produced an audible crack, and hurled him away. He yelped as his back smashed into a surviving pillar and he slid down it, pushing away from the base even as he hit the floor. He rolled sideways, back into the open space and onto his hands.

An obvious effort to stand failed and he toppled sideways, struggling to half-prop himself up as he rolled to look at his opponent. Katryna was staring down at the sliver of metal protruding from her chest, a shocked look on her face. For a few moments, nobody moved.

Then she started to laugh.

"That's it?" She straightened up and began to move towards Richard's prone form, seeming somehow to grow larger with every step until the spork's hilt was a barely visible glint on the iridescent robes. "_That_ was your best attempt? The great Richard, at the height of his final battle, and _that_ was the best you could do?" She was towering over him now, her eyes blazing icy silver as a disturbingly bright smile twisted her lips. Richard managed to heave himself up onto his shaking elbows, but his expression indicated that even that movement was nearly too much strain.

He was finished.

Katryna knew it. Almost lazily, she extended her right hand over him, fingers pointing downward, and her smile widened.

"_Imperio_."

Richard's entire body jerked and stiffened as the curse hit him. His face contorted, before blanking out, his eyes glazing over. Katryna stepped back, still smiling.

"Now, what to have you do? Stand up, Richard. I want to look at you."

He did. Slowly, stiffly, he hauled his battered figure upright and stood straight, swaying slightly, his blank stare fixed on Katryna.

"Yes."

"Good boy," she purred, leaning closer with a dark look in her eyes. "And now-"

She didn't get to finish the sentence, as it was at that point that Sam threw herself at the robed woman. No she thought briefly, this wasn't a _woman_. It… it was nothing more than a _damned_ Mary-Sue! She couldn't really fight, she knew that, but she couldn't just stand and watch! Five-foot two of desperate, angry teenager slammed into the Sue, who let out a cry of surprise and began spinning erratically, trying to shake off the girl clamped across her back. Sam clung on grimly, wrenching at the luminescent blonde locks, clawing at any available exposed skin. Panic sang through her, but this time it wasn't fear for herself – it was the cold horror brought by very idea that she wouldn't be able to _do_ anything. The Terrace was gone, Jackie had vanished and Richard… The first sob choked past her lips as his blank face rose across her mind.

He was beaten. They were beaten. But she was dammed if she was just going to roll over and give up! She tugged even harder, and was rewarded by a fresh shriek as a clump of platinum-white came away in her hand.

"Get – off – me – you – little-!" Katryna screeched, spinning round absurdly as her hands clawed ineffectively back, trying to get purchase, "_Richard!_"

Sam managed a final rake of nails before strong hands locked around her shoulders and wrenched her away from Katryna's back. The world span dizzyingly as she was hurled unceremoniously aside. She hit the ground badly – again – and skidded, skinning her palms as she pressed them into the glowing floor to try and steady herself. Something caught under her hands and she fell to one side, finally coming to a halt several metres away. .

She forced herself round apprehensively and swallowed a yelp as Katryna loomed over her, hate flashing in her eyes.

"You _dare_… A _Serena_ has the audacity to challenge me? I'll kill you where you stand, you little bitch!" Her voice wasn't even faintly melodic now – far more like a screech owl than a siren – and there were strange specks of violet flickering and out of her stare.

"My – name – is – _Sam!_" Sam hissed, surprising herself with the force in her tones. She summoned a glare and focused it on Katryna. It wouldn't do any good, she was as good as dead now anyway, but she was _not_ going to give up! There –

Her jaw dropped. Katryna regained a little composure, clearly thinking the expression was for her benefit, but _she_ wasn't the focus of Sam's disbelief. Behind Katryna, his arms still half extended from tossing her aside, Richard cut a near-silhouette against the glowing walls, but suddenly his face was far from blank. The dark stare caught Sam's and shifted downward for a split second.

Sam could barely breathe. He… he wasn't under the Imperiuscontrol? Her eyes widened slightly as the implication hit her. He was standing under his own power. He couldn't be as badly hurt as she'd thought, as he'd been portraying. But _why?_ Why make it look as if he'd given up…?

The eyes flicked downward again, just as Katryna turned round to see what Sam was staring at that wasn't her. Richard's expression blanked out again, and Sam snatched the opportunity to look down. Her gaze locked on the thin, white shape of what she'd fallen on earlier, and she blinked.

Richard's wand was lying mere centimetres away from her fingertips. And Katryna hadn't noticed. Reflexes sharpened by fear, Sam quickly snatched the wand and shoved it up her tattered sleeve, just before Katryna turned back, apparently satisfied that Richard was still under her control. Her attention returned to Sam and the terrifyingly bright smile returned to her face.

"What shall I do with you now?"

"Surprise me," Sam snarled and pulled herself round so the arm with the concealed wand was facing away from Katryna. She didn't know was she was supposed to _do_ with it, but it felt good to be armed. Even if she couldn't use the weapon, nor did she have any idea how to even improvise other than to try and stick in some part of her opponent's face.

Katryna smiled coldly.

"If you insist." She raised her right hand into the air, fingers twitching, "_Cruci_- _AAH!_" The curse degraded in a scream of pain as Richard stepped around from behind her, caught the extended hand and smoothly wrenched it sideways. The crack positively _echoed_. Katryna tried to jerk away, but Richard's balled fist swung round, catching her hard in the jaw. She was sent staggering back by the force of the blow, clutching at her wrist as she stumbled –

Then the world exploded. Blinding golden light erupted from around the Sue as she suddenly lunged into the air, spread-eagled, violet-flecked gold blazing from her eyes. Sam threw her arms over her head as a hurricane sprang up around them, the air suddenly searingly hot and razor edged, cutting small blasts of pain from her flesh. The wind howled at an unnatural pitch that violated the ears, and it was all Sam could do not to clap her hands over them as she tried desperately to focus through the seething clouds of white light surrounding Katryna.

It was like what had happened to Jackie, when her Sue peaked. Why was-?

Any more thoughts on the subject died as another wave of scalding air blasted over her, sweeping aside some of the luminescent fog, and she couldn't repress a gasp. If she'd thought Katryna had changed form before, _this_ was far beyond even that. Her body was bizarrely thin, the limbs splayed either side of her almost insectoid in their sharp lines, and contrasted impossibly with the gravity-defying cleavage that was barely restrained by her dress. Her clothing itself could hardly be described as material anymore – the cloth was suddenly so smooth and iridescent it appeared Katryna's skin had warped into blue-white scales over half her body. Her hair stood out either side of her, glowing crystal-white and twisting into thin tendrils that seemed to be moving to a different wind, and her eyes… Sam had never seen anything like them before, and was overcome with a sudden, desperate desire never to repeat the experience. Where recognisable optic structures had once been were now little more than wide slits in the translucently pale skin. Violet-hued white fire blazed out of them, spilling tiny sparks down her face, with hints of slanted pupil, less black than an absence of _anything_, occasionally visible as the flames danced.

Suddenly the wind seemed to focus, swirling back from around the room and spiralling around Katryna's hovering form. It caught the sparks, sweeping them up into condensed tornadoes howling in front of the Sue, like guard dogs on patrol. Katryna shuddered and the fire of her eyes became less erratic as she slowly turned in the air until she was facing Richard. The impossible pupils locked onto him.

He didn't flinch. He hadn't even moved.

"**_T-4T 15 1T!1!1_**" Katryna's voice was painful to hear, catching and skipping harshly around the inside of the skull, and her words contained several syllables no functioning larynx should have been able to produce.

Richard still didn't move. From Katryna's point of view, he must have been radiating insufferable calm.

"So this is the final form of a hosted Sue?" Very deliberately, he ran his gaze across Katryna, and sneered."If _that's_ the perfection we were aiming for, I'm a _very_ glad I am 'only' human."

"**_I \/\/1LL GET H06\/\/4RTZ1!1! 4ND I WILL B TEH UL71/\/\4TE!1!_**" Even Katryna looked a little surprised at the sound of her own voice, and her next words were actually bordering on understandable. "**_4nd y0u, _de4r _R1ch4rd w1ll n0t 5t0p m3!11!_**"

Richard's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, but I will."

"**_D1E n0w!1!_**" Katryna flung out one of her emaciated arms, fingers flexing like grasping claws as the air in front of her burst into white flames and surged forward. Richard threw himself to one side, hitting the floor in a roll as the crystal inferno swept past him, scorching a powdery scar in the wall behind. The movement carried him back onto his feet and he was forced to dodge once more as she fired again. Now, the gap between them was far shorter, and the strain of his movements was showing on his face for real this time. He managed to dodge a further two blasts, but the fifth spout of silvery fire caught him in the side. It was only a glancing blow, but enough to send him crumpling onto his knees with a cry of pain as the shirt there evaporated, taking several layers of skin with it. Katryna didn't hesitate and shot forward, towering over Richard's fallen figure and appearing to grow again as she did so. The fire spilled from her fingertips as she raised her hands above her head, an insane smile contorting what remained of her face.

"**_1 \/\/1N, R1ch4rd._**" The ball of flame forming between her hands increased, blazing like a localised supernova as she tensed to fling it down.

"Sam! **NOW!**"

She hadn't even been aware she was waiting for the cue, but apparently part of Sam's mind knew what she had to do. She ripped the wand from her sleeve and threw it with every ounce of strength she could summon. Pale wood was dark against the brilliance as it streaked across the room. Katryna half-turned, momentarily distracted by the sudden action, and her blazing eyes widened as they focused on the wand. She lunged towards it but jerked oddly in the air, as if she were tangled in her own hovering attack, and then it was too late. Richard's outstretched fingers closed around the wand, plucking it out of the air and he swivelled, his arm sweeping out like the accusing digit of some avenging angel. His eyes narrowed.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Green light erupted from the tip of his wand and shot up towards Katryna's towering figure, aimed perfectly at her heart…

…no…not at her _heart_…

For one horrible, eternal moment, it looked as if he'd missed. Then the jet reached its target, and it became clear that Richard had hit exactly what he'd been aiming for.

Katryna's scream was an almost physical force as the spork embedded in her chest exploded in a storm of emerald bolts. Green lightning crackled across her limbs as they convulsed horribly, oily grey mist rising where the light touched, and over it all the scream sliced the air apart. The Sue began to shake violently, lightning crawling over her entire body, over, through, _into_ her, radiating dark hunger. The blazing eyes flickered, fire fading, and then suddenly the scream intensified as green light began pouring from those eyes, swamping the brilliance there before. Grey fog spewed from her mouth, boiling away from her skin, shrouding her in so much oily mist that her actual form was obscured. The figure shuddered in the air, a humanoid shape of grey, faintly luminous fog, with two slanted blazing eyes, entangled in a crackling web of green lightning and over it all the _scream_, like a dying banshee, echoed with itself.

Sam didn't have chance to see any more as Richard ploughed into her, flattening her to the ground under him as he swept his outer robes around them both. A strange, deafening sound, like an explosion in reverse, thundered through the air and the ground shook. Points of green light filtered through some of the rips in Richard's cloak, although it still held most of its integrity. Sam clutched at him as the world shuddered, invisible things outside the dark shield battering them, the strange sound assaulting her ears. She knew she was screaming, from the pain in her throat, but she couldn't hear it, any other sound swallowed and crushed beneath the sheer power of the one smashing at them. Richard wrapped an arm round her shoulders and drew her closer, curling his body around hers and she could feel him shake as he took the brunt of the hidden assaults.

She couldn't see; could barely breathe the air, thick with the overpowering scents of blood, sweat and charred cloth and skin; couldn't hear anything above the deafening shriek scything through her skull and she just wanted it to _end_, for the noise and the shaking and the battering and _everything to just STOP!_

And then it did.

- x -


	14. A Self to be

(Note at end)

**Chapter 14**

"You alright, kid?"

Sam couldn't move. Her muscles had frozen, leaving her curled up so tightly it hurt, and she didn't want to know what would happen if she tried to relax. Her ears rang with echoes of the horrible screech, accompanying green after-images flashing across her eyes. She couldn't remember how to breathe. How long had it been, here in the hot darkness, whilst all around the screaming and the evil green light seethed, bursting into the faint sanctuary, battering, wrenching, _searching _… Then nothing. An eternal moment of nothing, while Sam's mind spiralled away into the dark and the echoes and –

An elbow jammed into her side. It was such a sudden, unexpected and _mundane_ sensation that a yelp shot past Sam's lips and her paralysis vanished. It felt like every muscle in her body tensed at once, in the full-body spasm more usually associated with fitful sleep, then she crumpled and the shaking started. Small sobs crept out as she half-went to curl back, and then light burst into the darkness, air rushing past as she was pulled roughly onto her knees. Hands clasped her shoulders, hard, and an external force shook her.

"_Look at me._"

The words punched past the fog of terror and adrenaline-relics swamping her mind, going straight to the muscle centres. Sam's eyes snapped open, almost of their own accord, and her gaze locked with the brown stare opposite her. One of the eyes was blackened, the other outlined in blood as if with some particularly macabre makeup, but the stare _burned_.

"Keep it together, kid," Richard said quietly, and Sam gulped, trying to regain control of her body again. Panicking wouldn't help: the noise and chaos had stopped now.

"Wh-wh-what happ-pp-ened?" she stammered, her voice shaky and small, as if the words were trying not to be noticed. Richard opened his mouth, then froze. Several expressions flashed across his face in quick succession, starting with horrified realisation, and he swung around. His hands dropped from Sam's arms and he turned. Sam managed to follow his gaze.

What she saw was … unbalancing. Little had changed. They were sitting off-centre in the huge marbled circle, gold light still spilling down from above and highlighting the web of columns, if less brightly than before. The only real change was in the centre of the room, where a figure was slumped on the gilded ground. Sam nearly groaned. She'd survived _that?_

Richard gave a small sound, and suddenly he was on his feet. Sam started after him automatically, then stopped. One clear glance had been enough.

It wasn't Katryna. The form was tall and slim, but the slenderness was stretched now, an athletic build thinned out as if wasted. The hair was still long, but it had lost its unearthly sheen and was tangled where it had fallen ungracefully aside, and her face … It was certainly not Katryna's face. There were dark circles under the eyes, marring the soft skin, and faint lines were etched onto an otherwise smooth forehead, aging the features far more than apparent years should have done. Even her dress had changed; and no more gave the appearance of a glittering second skin, but changed to plain, if fitted, white. _Real_ white, not the luminescent facsimile that had become so familiar.

The only other obvious detail was the spork handle buried in her chest, gleaming even as scarlet blossomed from beneath the silver.

"_Kate!_" Richard dropped down next to her, wand falling from his fingertips as he roughly pulled the crumpled form into his arms and shook her. "Oh _hell_ – can you hear me?"

His gaze flicked down to her chest and a small wince crossed his otherwise inscrutable features as he focused on the metal spike. He reached gingerly towards it, but as his fingers brushed the surface Kate's hand shot up, locking around his wrist. Her eyes fluttered open.

They were blue. Plain, simple, ordinary, _human_ blue.

"… Richard …"

"It's me." He said caught the hand, squeezing it gently. "Don't try to talk, you're hurt."

"She's … she's _gone_." A smile, a _real_ smile crept onto her lips and Kate's eyelids drooped. "You really did it."

"I had no choice," Richard said quietly. Sam realised with a jolt that his eyes were glistening, "I promised. We couldn't let her-"

"Thank you …"

"No!" Richard shook her shoulders again as her eyes started to drift closed. "Stay with me! We'll get you out of here."

Kate laughed. The sound was barely audible, and very different from Katryna's vicious giggle. The fallen woman looked up at Richard, amusement flicking across her drawn face.

"Always the optimist. I'm _tired_, Richard –" she squeezed his fingers weakly, "but happy. We're free; we won."

"This time," he muttered and half moved, as if reaching for her other hand, but stopped.

"Then you're in practise … to win again …" Kate reached up and, very gently, laid a shaking hand on Richard's cheek. The two stares locked, blue to brown. Constant, for the first time. "You don't … let much stop you, I … know."

"And you don't give up this easily!" he nearly snapped, his hand reaching up to hesitate again next to hers, barely brushing. "You're-"

"… _free_…"

Her hand fell.

Richard didn't move. Eventually he reached down and eased Kate's eyelids closed. Sam wanted to turn away, didn't want to see the hollow expression on his face as his hand moved over to the spork handle, but she couldn't make her neck respond to her commands. Richard hesitated again, briefly, before his fingers closed on the handle and he pulled, freeing the weapon with a damp crack. Blood gleamed on the silver, tracing strange patterns on the smooth metal.

He stared at it for a long time. Then he flung it aside and turned away, his eyes closed.

Sam felt numb as she watched the scene unfold. Perhaps there wasn't any more room inside her for other emotions, and confusion was first in the queue for when some of the space was cleared. Should she say anything? Probably not. She got the impression that this was another event where she was superfluous to requirements, so she would have to just be as not-there as possible. _Don't speak, don't move, don't make any sound until –_

She stopped. _Something_ was making a sound – a soft sound, like a high-pitched version of ruler vibrating on a desk edge – but it wasn't _her _…

She glanced round at the same time Richard seemed to become aware of the noise and turned. They both saw the spork standing straight in the air, its prongs sunk deep into the floor and quivering. The sound rose, vibrations becoming faster and faster, and around the tips of the prongs the ground began to crack like breaking glass. The golden light began to fade as tiny lines of smoke started to rise from the fissures.

"Run," Richard said quietly. He turned and met Sam's eyes at the same moment that the ground rocked violently and shattered, the spork plunging downward into the sudden cavern as smoke started to billow. Richard pulled Kate's body back into his arms and stood up, leaping out of the way as the ground beneath him zig-zagged like crazy paving and collapsed, plumes of greasy smoke swirling around him as he dove through them and yelled again:

"_RUN!_"

They ran. Sam cleared the edge of the golden circle after he did, and a fraction of a second before the remaining marbled gold fractured, heaving up like breaking ice as smoke billowed. Tiny bolts of lightning crackled past them, stabbing into the pillars as they ran past and sending ripples through the glow beneath. Sam glanced back, swallowing a yelp as she saw the wall of gilt columns crash down into the boiling mass the circle had become. _Please don't lead back there, please don't lead back there_ –

Her silent desperation broke and she nearly hit Richard's back as he skidded to a halt. The forest of pillars hadn't led back to the circle room, but it _had_ led to a blank wall. Richard swore.

"Damn!" He glanced round. "We'll have to go back – "

They looked round. There _was_ no 'back'. There were only a few metres of architecture remaining behind them; the rest had collapsed into the chaotic mass. Richard looked around and started towards the only surviving pillars, but Sam grabbed his arm. She was staring at the wall, listening to the suspicion dancing around her thoughts.

"This place is Sue, right?"

"We do _not_ have time for a question session!"

"_Richard!_" Sam looked up at him, as fiercely as she could. "It's Sue, isn't it? Katryna could make it work because she was a Sue!"

He glared at her and she could see the worry creeping onto his face.

"I don't _know._ But yes," he conceded, seeing her expression, "probably. What's your point?"

"You might be human now, but I'm not. I brought us through a wall once…" Without waiting for any response Sam tightened her grip on his arm, focused as hard as she could on the back of her mind where Serena lurked and lunged forward. Her forehead hit the wall painfully, but just before she rebounded the surface seemed to lose its integrity and she plunged into the cloying brilliance, dragging Richard behind her. This time, she kept her eyes open. The gold lightning crackled around them as they struggled forward, pushing through the surrounding glowing fog. It was like trying to swim through treacle, occasionally there seemed to be floor, more often not, and Sam's lungs started to ache from the strain of trying to breathe the oddly heavy air. She squinted, trying to see anything against the light, and thought she saw an area of fainter glow. Hoping that meant a way out, she began forcing her way towards it.

She was less than an arm's length away from the dulled area when the fog in front of her lit up and writhed. Sam swung back as the light swirled, condensed and divided, narrowing until two glowing slashes of light formed. Around them, a recognisable shape unfurled like a flag and suddenly a Sue was hovering in the smoke in front of her, eyes bright. The figure's arms swung up, reaching towards Sam in a horrible embrace that she couldn't dodge. She didn't have to. As the foggy hands touched her, Sam cried out, pain flaring from the back of her mind as she felt her own Sue lash out at the attempted intrusion. The hovering Sue jerked away, looking momentarily surprised, and Sam took the opportunity to dive forward, dragging Richard past the Sue. Suddenly she was falling through normal air as they toppled out of a wall. She span round, making sure Richard was completely out. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the figures looming up behind the glassy surface. Slashed eyes of gold fire were fixed on them, desperate hunger etched on each mannequin-face.

"Stay away from the walls," Richard said as he straightened up. "They're desperate, and conscious now."

"That one," Sam gasped, trying to get her breath back, "she grabbed at me, I-I think my Sue-"

"It won't last, trust me on that." Richard grimaced. "Keep running."

They seemed to have emerged into one of the endless corridors, so at least the actual running was easier. Sam tried to squash the thought that they really, really had no idea how to get out of here. Even if they managed to get back to where they had entered, being disgorged from the gestalt's lofty 'shoulder' with no form of flight available wouldn't be a very good plan. She was so focused on the thought that it was only pure instinct that allowed her to dodge the first ghostly hand which shot out of the wall and snatched at her. She dodged it, squeaked, and hopped over another that thrust out of the floor, clawing for her ankles.

"Avoid them!" Richard snapped, jumping over a trio of hands that grasped for him, and ducking under some more that speared down from the roof. "This place is falling apart, they need a host. Don't give them one!"

Sam gulped and tried to concentrate on running. Golden lightning and dark cracks raced alongside them, brilliant eyes condensing at a horrible speed as they dodged hands, arms and less-clearly formed limbs that shot out, grasping greedily as they sprinted past. Sam hurdled an almost complete smoky torso and suddenly something caught her eye. She came to an abrupt halt. The corridor branched at that point, and the light at the end of the left one didn't seem as gold.

"This way!" she called and Richard span round, ducking back after her as they changed course. The more Sam focused on the different light, the surer she was, and she had to press down treacherous relief. _Get out first, then be relieved about it_. She skidded to a halt by the end wall and examined it. Cracks were snaking out across the surface like a web, the surface itself was less shiny than the rest and, most importantly, there didn't seem to be the swirling fog behind the glass. Sam reached out gingerly, took a deep breath as she focused, and stuck her head through the wall.

Cold night air hit her like a punch to the face. She didn't have enough night-vision to be able to see much as she craned round, but she could tell that they were only a few metres off the ground, and that whatever they _were_ inside was certainly not Katryna-shaped anymore. She pulled herself back inside and turned round, opening her mouth to speak to Richard as he reached her, but her words vanished in a small squeak as she saw the collapsing chaos boiling behind him. It had reached the end of the corridor and the dark cracks were already snaking towards them, gouts of smoke shooting out where the walls collapsed.

Sam grabbed for Richard's arm.

"It's only a short drop, we can – "

"Wait." Richard's eyes narrowed as he glared around, suspicion on his face. Sam hopped from one foot to another, gaze flicking between the advancing chaos and Richard's face.

"What?"

"Nothing's come after us. In the tunnel, nothing's grabbed for me. You?"

"No, but, I thought that, I mean we're nearly _out_, and …"

"No. This isn't right." Richard knelt down and gently laid Kate's body against the fractured surface. He straightened up, moving over to glare at another wall. His hand shot out, pressing palm-first against the surface, and suddenly he swung the other up, fingers grasping around smoky arms as they lunged out at him. He wrenched back hard, dragging the figure out of the wall.

Sam took a step back, her eyes widening as Richard slung his burden aside, but the shape twisted in the air, spinning like an insubstantial gymnast to land squarely on its hands. Limbs blurred, shifted, and suddenly the figure was on it feet, a horrible grin splitting the demonic mannequin face. This new figure was different to all those Sam had seen before. For one thing, it was _very_ clearly male.

_So **that's **what **Stus **emphasise _…

"**I hope you've kept my body in good shape, _Richard_." **Adrastos stretched, cat-like, and straightened, before focusing his gold eye-slashes on Richard. "**I'll be making a _new_ deal now, I think.**"

"Get out, Sam," Richard growled through clenched teeth as he fixed a death stare on his smoky doppelganger. Adrastos glanced over at Sam, clearly uninterested, but then he noticed the limp form at her feet and his smile widened. He smirked.

"**So we got an ending after all, Richard? I wonder – did you _tell_ her? At the end, perhaps, in the heroes' way?"**

"Sam! _Get out!_" Richard yelled, but Sam shook her head violently.

"I'm not leaving you!"

The foot slammed into her chest so hard that her ribs screamed. Sam let out a yell as she was thrown backward, automatically snatching at the air for purchase. Her hand closed on Kate's dress and they hit the wall together. She tried not to fall through it, but resistance didn't make any difference as the cracked surface shattered under her weight and she smashed out. There was a moment of stomach-churning gravity, and she just had time to worry about hitting the ground at that unnatural angle, before her plunge suddenly slowed, unseen strength taking her weight. Her head jerked up automatically as she drifted to the ground and she focused on the shimmering, unfocused mass of yellowish, glowing fog above her. The only clear area was a ragged hole above her, where two figures were visibly highlighted against the glow. Richard was turning back from his kick, but he wasn't fast enough. Adrastos leapt forward, foggy hands plunging unstoppably towards his ex-host's chest.

Sam hit the ground and suddenly there was the thud of feet next to her and an arm shot out, wand-tip bright in the darkness as a female voice yelled:

"_Coerceo_"

A ripple shot out through the air, smoke fleeing before it. Adrastos looked up just in time for the spell to hit him full in the face. He let out a bizarre half-roar, half screech of rage as the spell caught and the Stu's smoky form writhed, twisting round, up and back on itself until he'd been condensed into a globe of boiling fog. Richard leapt to his feet, his puzzled expression visible even from there.

"Jump, you bloody idiot!" The familiar voice rang out like a gunshot and Richard span around and flung himself clear of the corridor a fraction of a second before the walls collapsed. The wand waved again and his fall slowed, but he still rolled as he landed. Sam scrambled to her feet and turned round, not daring to hope for what she knew she was going to see.

The first thing she noticed was the lack of red. Jackie – her hair something closer to brown than scarlet now – flashed a tired grin.

"Evening."

"Forget the pleasantries!" Richard yelled as he reached them, the still, white figure clutched in his arms again. "That thing is about to collapse! _Run!_"

They ran. The ground shuddered under them, rocking, bucking violently, tremors rippling through the earth with ease, and over it was the _noise_, a screaming, screeching reverberating crescendo, that became louder and louder and louder until the ground sang along with it. Sam ran. The howling peaked as the air filled with greasy whispers turned to shrieking and the sickly golden glow grew bright enough to turn night to momentary day. There was a final pulse of light and sound, and then the sprinting figures were hurled bodily forward as behind them the seething, chaotic mass of dying Sue exploded in an effects-director's fever-dream of brilliance, fire and gold.

The echoes took a long time to die away, and even longer to stop rebounding inside Sam's skull. She covered her head with her arms and pressed herself against the ground, trying not to inhale grass, and stayed there until the earth stilled again. When she finally managed to ease herself up onto her knees and open her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the light. Gone was the sickly golden brilliance, replaced with the soft light of several dozen _lumos_ spells, and the faint grey shimmer of dawn.

Around her, in various states of disarray and bearing identical expressions of utter confusion, but upright – if swaying – and very much alive, were the Terrace. They were stared, wide-eyed and disbelieving, at both her and something behind her. She turned.

Behind her, scarring a significant stretch of the dark forest, was a massive crater, scored several storeys deep into bare earth as if by some titanic scoop. Everything else was gone. The battle-scorched trees, the ruptured ground, the assorted side-effects of magical fallout. Everything, swallowed up by the earth.

Sam's heart skipped a few beats before she found what she was _really_ looking for in the destruction. Two figures, rising unsteadily to their feet right at the very edge of the crater. Before she knew what she was doing she was stumbling over, trying to push away tears of relief. Richard stood up first, but he instantly dropped down again to crouch by the pale shape crumpled beside him. Jackie looked over at Sam then turned back to Richard as he straightened up for the second time. His face was blank when he glanced round.

"Nice shot."

Jackie managed a thin smile.

"Thanks – " she cast a glance over him and raised an eyebrow. "You look awful."

"Thanks; I feel it. So," he said dully, "we won, then."

"Apparently. Are you alright?" Her expression indicated she already knew the answer. Richard shrugged.

"I doubt it."

There was a long moment of silence as Jackie's gaze travelled down, alighting on the slumped figure. When she next spoke, her words were tentative – hopeful, almost – but her expression was the same. The question needed to be asked, even if its answer was already clear.

"And … Kate?"

Richard's lips pressed together tightly and he shook his head. He half made to turn away but Jackie stepped forward, enveloping him in a tight embrace before he could move. For a moment he stiffened, conflict fighting with grief for control of his face, and then he crumpled. It wasn't a graceful or dramatic fall, but the buckling collapse of someone pushed beyond their endurance levels for far too long. Jackie managed to catch him, but Richard was considerably bigger than she was and she stumbled trying to support his weight.

The scene froze.

Then Sam caught Richard's other arm, pulling it around her shoulders, and the moment broke. The lights flickered as the Terrace resident suddenly surged forward, sound rising as shock cracked and the questions started. There were too many to even _hear_ properly, so it took a few minutes and a _sonorus_ charm before Jackie could make herself heard above the chaos.

"In the nicest, most sensitive way possible: everyone SHUT UP! Now," she shot a glare around the pale crowd. "We have to move, and I don't want anyone attempting Apparation. There's a portkey on the hill, we'll do multiple trips. Level One Field operatives, out here _now_."

The crowd parted and, a little hesitantly, four figures moved forward. Sam didn't recognise any of them, and even Jackie had to squint slightly.

"Alright. Two of you take your teams and go ahead, the rest are on escort duty. I'm not sure where the 'port back will come in, so be on your toes. Is Elsa – ?"

"I've done the best I can with no supplies." The medi-witch emerged from the crowd, looking flustered. Her newly-black hair had been scraped roughly back, still in its braids, but her stare was as sharp as ever. She raised an eyebrow at Jackie and Sam, then stepped towards the figure slung between them.

"I won't ask, yet, but –"

"Not now. Is everyone stable?"

"Physically? Mostly. As for anything else …"

"It can wait. No one is to be left," Jackie said quietly, "even if …" she trailed off and shot a glance round. Elsa followed her gaze, and the remaining colour drained out of her face.

"… oh no …"

"Elsa, I need to go with everyone else. You're alright?"

"Unbalanced, bruised and I haven't dared try magic, but yes."

"Consider yourself deputised."

Elsa nodded grimly and then span round, snapping some sharp orders as she began to divide the group.

"Come on," Jackie muttered. She started towards the hill – already crowned with a ring of _lumos_ as the Field team got into place. People started filtering after them, pale-faced shadows in the darkness as wands were quickly requisitioned. By the time they reached the circle of light, Sam was having difficulty walking, her legs starting to shut down under the combination of increasing exhaustion, plunging adrenaline, and the weight of Richard across her shoulders. She tried to ignore the rising buzz in her ears, and the way her vision kept sliding in and out of focus.

She'd got this far. She couldn't stop now, she _couldn't _…

A dull rush of air heralded the arrival of a tall black woman, one hand holding a wand, the other buried in the portkey's shimmering feathers as it re-appeared. She nodded to Jackie.

"Comes out in the kitchen. All seems clear, I've got one team ready for pickup, one establishing safe sections in the rest of the building, and Ivy's securing the Infirmary."

Jackie managed a thin smile.

"You're good, Jo."

"Trained by the best." The tall woman glanced at Richard for a second, and something approaching a wince crossed her face. It was gone just as quickly as she held out the wing to Jackie and the small group that had been moved in around them. Sam reached out, taking hold of the glassy feathers and the world lurched. Dizziness swept over her as she was dragged forward and she focused her remaining strength on two things: holding the portkey, and keeping Richard's limp arm pulled close to her shoulder. The journey ended as abruptly as it had begun, Sam's feet hitting solid ground hard as the battered remains of the Terrace kitchen whirled in around her. She stumbled forward and was caught by several hands, quickly moved to one side by strong, if shaken, movements, and then suddenly the weight was off her shoulders and Jackie was muttering to her, trying to move her somewhere. Sam looked up in time to see the portkey return for the second time, Elsa moving in on Richard's unconscious form, but the view was fading, blurring and Sam felt her strength fail as her final flicker of adrenaline gave out. She sank to her knees, dimly aware of the hot tears on her cheeks, or of Jackie's voice, soothing, comforting …

It was finally over.

She passed out.

-x-x-

Jackie leaned against a reasonably-sound wall, taking a moment to sigh, close her eyes, and thank any deity that might happen to be listening that a decent supply of coffee had survived the chaos. She gripped the mug tightly between her fingers; thick, gritty liquid crawled against its sides, promising another few hours to be snatched from the arms of sleep. She took a swig, breathed out, and opened her eyes to survey the scene before her.

All in all, they were doing rather well. The corridors between the kitchen, main hallway and Infirmary had been cleared, any suspect walls reinforced, and enough side rooms tidied up to provide at least floor space for the residents. The _remaining_ residents, Jackie reminded herself with a shudder as she thought of the small room that lead off the main hall. Once a TV lounge, now a makeshift morgue under Field guard. Nine dead, over two dozen with physical wounds, and damn near everyone moving around whilst in various stages of shock. Still, they were doing well. The Field teams were systematically working their way through the rest of the Terrace, removing obstacles and repairing wards; Elsa had gathered her own team and was moving between the rooms and huddled groups, a bag slung over her shoulder, dispensing whatever immediate care she could. Jackie's tentative inquiry about the medi-witch's own wellbeing had been answered with a cold glare and sharp rebuttal: "My magic might be shaky, but I can bandage, salve and apply sticking plasters perfectly well without a wand, thank you."

Jackie herself had made sure that there was _someone_ on tea, coffee and high-sugar product duty. They really needed chocolate, but there was only a limited supply of that left. She'd procured a few bars of it for what she considered her most personal duty, which she was currently looking at.

Richard was stretched out on a hastily-transfigured bed, stripped down to his shorts, but modesty was well satisfied by the sheer area of potion-imbued bandages secured across his bare skin. His clothes were neatly piled next to him, quietly repairing themselves, having expelled all the grime several hours ago. Whatever he'd got charmed into his robes was working overtime. Again.

Opposite Richard, curled up on an intact sofa on the other side of the room and wrapped loosely in a scavenged blanket, Sam slept quietly. Jackie allowed herself a grin as she looked at the small figure. She'd been through hell and back, and, as far as Jackie could tell, she'd emerged intact. A little battered, but very definitely not beaten.

Like the Terrace as a whole, really. Jackie straightened up and moved over to the small room's window. It offered little in the way of a view – just the street outside, cars moving along its tarmac skin as morning faded into afternoon – but she stared out of it nonetheless. Idly, she glanced at her reflection in the glass, and played with a bit of the tangled auburn that now capped her head. The lack of scarlet was going to take a bit of getting used to, but she admitted a small sense of satisfaction that her eyes hadn't changed along with the forced eviction of her subconscious lodger. It was a very strange sensation, finally being alone in her own head, not having to constantly watch her thoughts, but it was a nice one. And at least she'd be able to really trust herself around matches now.

As thoughts swum lazily through her mind, Jackie was quite aware that she was avoiding one particular line of mental inquiry. It wasn't the time, not yet. Get the _now_ sorted out first. Then, maybe, there would be time for other things. She tuned round and looked at Richard's unconscious form. A lot was going to depend on him. Sure, she could get things tidied up, and the Field teams were a great asset, and now some of the other residents had started to mentally thaw enough to be of use, but …

They needed him. They needed the focus; the determination, the sarcasm-veiled concern and the sheer, undeniable, undiluted _Richard-ness_ of him.

_I can't lose them both_.

Her thoughts were broken by a small voice.

"Jackie?"

Jackie turned. Sam was sitting up, her eyes wide. Time slowed, and then suddenly the girl's arms were latched tightly around Jackie's waist as she sobbed into her shirt. Jackie reached round and returned the hug, squeezing gently to reassure without words. After a while, the girl's grip began to lessen, her cries subside, and Jackie carefully eased her off and guided her back to the sofa. As they sat down, Sam gulped air, and words started to be discernable.

"… sorry. I just – "

"Hey," Jackie slung an arm around the small shoulders, "enough of that. Venting tear-ducts is a perfectly acceptable response, don't worry about it. If it helps, I'm glad you made it too."

Sam managed a wobbly smile.

"Th-thanks. I still d-don't understand what happened, really. But it's over, right?" there was a pleading edge in her voice, "I mean, everyone's okay, aren't they? I saw, on the hill, they were all standing and looking, well, different …" She stopped, staring closely at Jackie's hair. The slightly-redhead grinned.

"Yes, there are some truly shocking degrees of normality around the place now. Maybe I should go purple? For the sake of our own twisted branch of the ordinary, of course." She regarded her friend closely. "You did well, Sam. I'm proud of how you handled it all."

"I was terrified! I didn't even know what I was doing!"

"Take it from an old-hand, kid: No-one ever does. Even … hmm," Jackie frowned, "I don't think 'normal-iris' is going to hack it as a description. Ah well. All good things must come to an end, I suppose."

At that, Sam suddenly went very quiet and looked at her feet.

"So, you're human too? Now, I mean."

"Yup. It's faintly disconcerting."

"But I'm not. Katryna … she never took my Sue. Why?" Sam looked up again. Jackie thought about it, then shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe it wasn't strong enough to interest her?"

"She kept _talking_ about it," Sam snapped and a small spark ignited in her eyes. "Calling me 'Serena' and weak."

"And she was probably right." Jackie grinned at the shocked expression on Sam's face. "I think Richard told you – Serenas generally aren't very strong. But it wasn't _Serena_ out there, was it?"

Even in the dim light, Sam blushed.

"No."

"Exactly. Anyway," Jackie continued airily, "you aren't the only one who didn't get de-Sued. Last thing I saw, Elsa was fussing excessively over our top Field team, once they'd been dug out. I think we needed a drill to get Darek out of the floor. They're back to themselves now the Influence has faded, but they're still in your boat."

That seemed to brighten Sam up a little. She sat silently for a moment, and then started to look round. Her gaze swept across the room and landed on Richard. Relief flooded her features, but it was quickly followed by wide eyes, a look of shock and a sudden diversion of stare, while crimson burst anew onto her cheeks. Jackie couldn't stifle a small laugh.

"Er, yeah, well we did have to get to all those wounds. A lot were from sporks, weren't they?"

Sam swallowed nervously.

"Yes."

Then she told Jackie everything. It took some time, involving a lot of stumbling sentences and grappling with description, but, however awkwardly, she got there. When the final words faded from the air, Sam sat back and closed her eyes, letting out a huge breath.

"It's just so unreal," she said quietly, "like it's too weird to have happened, even though I was there."

"Weird isn't the half of it," Jackie murmured. She looked at the small figure next to her, and then over again at Richard.

_Merlin's bea- _

_ ars- _

_ oh hell, Merlin's entire _anatomy!

She didn't know what she'd been expecting to have happened. She had a few foggy memories of what Zitkalasa had seen, but the Sue had never been concerned much with anything that didn't burn, and things had become decidedly foggy after the Phoenix flames had died. The first clear recollection was coming to in a torn-up forest, in time to see some giant, boiling mass of sickly gold start to pulse very strangely, a few moments before Sam had been hurled out of it. Everything from then on had been mostly instinct, and she hadn't thought much about what had occurred in her missing minutes.

_Ye gods._

"I swear, kid," Jackie said, shaking her head, "if you don't end up in Field, I'll give up cake."

Sam managed a small laugh. She shook her head.

"I'd be useless. Anyway, what's happened here? It was such a mess before!"

"Still is, but we're working on it."

"Can … can I help?"

Jackie raised an eyebrow.

"You feel up to it?"

Sam shrugged.

"I can't sleep anymore. Besides, I want to _do_ something."

Jackie regarded her closely. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was still pale, although her collection of cuts and bruises were healing well under Elsa's salves. Still, she didn't look much worse than a lot of those still shifting furniture, and Jackie knew well the desire to stay busy. It helped stop you thinking quite as much. She sighed, and nodded.

"Alright. This is rather against my better judgement, and if Elsa kills me for this, I blame you utterly. Mind being stuck on tea-duty?"

"If it doesn't explode, glow, try to kill me or sprout anything more horrible than steam, I'll be happy."

Jackie laughed. She straightened up and pulled one of her procured chocolate bars from her jacket.

"Eat this first. And I'll see if we can't find some less threadbare clothes for you."

They moved towards the door. Sam pushed it open, hesitating before stepping through into the organising chaos beyond. Her gaze strayed back to the slumbering figure, and when their stares next met Jackie felt a jolt of surprise at the _age_ in Sam's eyes.

"Will he be okay?"

"Elsa's a genius, he'll be all knitted up in no time – "

"No," Sam said softly, and Jackie could almost _see_ the moment that was playing behind her eyes, "that isn't what I meant."

There wasn't any need to elaborate. Jackie swallowed the lump in her throat as she gently ushered Sam out of the door.

"I know. I wish I knew your answer too, Sam. I really do."

The door swung shut behind them.

-x-x-

Winter sunlight streamed out across the landscape, sharpening the edges of everything it touched. The dark wash of trees was broken only by an occasional rocky outcrop, small ridge, and one large crater. Far beyond the trees, where faint shades of turrets were just visible in the distance, two small dark shapes rose into the pale sky and rapidly became larger as they flew towards the forest's scar. Leathery wings beat the air, raising small tornadoes of dust, and soon two Thestrals were landing smoothly in the centre of the scoured ground. Their riders dismounted.

The first man to speak was the larger of the two, a huge figure who towered over his companion. Beetle-black eyes stared out from behind a wild mass of hair that swamped most of his face. The visible features held clear disbelief.

"'S like a crater. Yer think summat landed here?"

"I'm not yet sure, Hagrid," the second figure replied carefully, sharp blue eyes glittering behind his half-moon spectacles as he, too, assessed the scene. "Nor can I think how an event of this size could go unnoticed by our wards."

"Nothin' saw it. Never seen the Centaurs so worried as when they foun' it, neither."

The older man didn't reply. His gaze was tracing the crater, sweeping over every detail of the scene. He drew a thin wand robe from his robes and waved it gently, a light wind springing up around him and sweeping out, scattering the top layer of soil before it.

Silver gleamed. Here and there, bulbous droplets of melted metal peeked out of the earth, their original form unrecognisable. Except for one. The old man bent down, his beard brushing the ground as he carefully pulled the object free. Triple prongs glinted in the light.

"Wha'tcha got there, Professor?" Hagrid leaned over, squinting down at the thin metal object. The older man didn't answer him at first, and continued to stare thoughtfully at the implement resting in his palm.

"Dunno what coulda done all this." Hagrid waved a huge hand around, gesturing to the rest of the crater. "Nothin' should be in this forest that'd do it!"

Very slowly, Dumbledore's lips twitched into a small smile and he carefully pocketed the spiked metal.

"It's alright Hagrid." He straightened up and smiled again. "Nothing to worry about here, I think."

The big man regarded him quizzically for a moment, then shrugged.

"Wha'ever you say."

-x-

(Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/fed back to me on this, plus the usual grateful nod to my betas: SerenaSnape and filiuslupi. Final chapter in beta.)


	15. Out of the Ashes

**Chapter 15**

Darkness.

There had been a lot of that recently. He shifted a little, although there was no indication that he'd moved. There was nothing here, other than the darkness, and a lingering sense of something hidden just beyond it.

Light. Pain. Silver, for some reason, and blood.

Memories.

If he stayed here, none of it would matter. Stay in the soothing, calm, empty darkness. Let someone else face the rest.

The trouble was – that was a little too damn close to giving up.

Richard's eyes opened. In the moments before consciousness really kicked in, his brain performed its usual awakening-checklist, informing him that all limbs seemed to be present, and nothing was reporting any particularly unpleasant signals. Then the memories awoke. He watched them dispassionately as they flowed at impossible speed across his mind's eye. The last forty-eight hours of consciousness, condensed into a few moments little longer than a drawn breath. They rose, wheeled through his thoughts, crashing and mixing into each other, crescendoed as the present whirled closer amidst the storm of recollection – and _focused_. The memories broke away, fading back to the empty dullness of before, and then he was looking at the present. Well, at a darkened ceiling, dappled by sickly amber flecks of Muggle streetlamps, but at least it was a _current _ceiling.

His nostrils twitched. Ah, he wasn't alone, then.

"Kate's dead, isn't she?" he asked softly. His words were followed by the sound of someone nearly swallowing a cigarette, the corresponding set of coughs, then a final silence before Jackie hesitantly replied.

"Yes."

"And I'm alive?"

"Yes."

Richard stared at the roof for a while. Then he sat up abruptly – noting the dull aches that movement prompted from most of his major muscle groups – swung his legs onto the floor and straightened up. Opposite him, Jackie leapt to her feet, tossing the soggy stub aside.

"Richard – " she started, then stopped and her eyes swung down " – your hand…"

Richard looked down. He blinked. His left fist was balled, his fingers clenched so tightly that blood was starting to well between them. He watched it bead between his knuckles.

Blood.

"Don't feel it," he muttered, "Don't feel anything."

"Right, you're going to lie back down, and stay there," Jackie said firmly as she strode over. "You're not in any kind of shape to be doing anything but resting."

"Neither is anyone else." Richard picked his wand from the top of the nearby pile of dark material, and cleaned off his bloodied digits. It took a surprising amount of effort to unclench his fingers. They still twitched a bit as he pulled his shirt on over the bandages, under Jackie's half-worried, half-disapproving gaze.

"You're been spending too much time around Elsa." He tried a thin smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. A hand landed on his forearm and he shook it off. Richard found he couldn't meet the mismatched stare boring into him, and fixed his attention on getting dressed. Jackie shook her head.

"You don't have to do this."

"_You know damn well that I do!_"

The shout echoed, even in the small room, and it took a few moments of shocked silence before Richard realised that the yell had come from him. He span round and stared hard at the wall as he pulled the rest of his clothes on, avoiding the look on Jackie's face. His cloak settled onto his shoulders and he drew a deep breath, forcing calm through himself.

"I can't – " he stopped and felt the rough skin of the scar as his left fist twitched. No. There wasn't time for that yet. Richard gritted his teeth and turned, finally meeting Jackie's gaze.

"What's happened so far?" He saw her expression and met it with a small glare. "Look me in the eyes, Jackie, and tell me I'm not needed."

Silence. Then Jackie looked away.

"Nearly thirty wounded, though Elsa's on her usual brand of miracles, so they're improving. Nine dead. Most of the conventionally-ground floor is habitable again, if a tip, the Infirmary's been relocated to the Hall and we've re-done most of the major wards. Level one Field teams are dismantling any unpleasant additions we've gained, and I think Luce is setting up a temporary Field station in the break room, presumably because of nearby caffeine."

"Luce? She's alright? And Darek?"

"They're _both_ okay," Jackie cut in, her words accompanied by the ghost of a smile. "Luce looks like she's been through a toaster, I'm afraid, but apparently having over two-thirds of your body covered in burn salve and bandages isn't enough to slow one of your lot down." There was a pointed glance in the direction of his chest after this, which Richard chose to ignore. Jackie sighed.

"All in all, we're physically fine. The problems are up here." She tapped her forehead. "Everyone's rather… disorientated. We're back, but everything's changed and it's going to stay changed. Humanity's a difficult thing to have dropped on you."

"We were always human." More words Richard hadn't meant to say, but this time he let them flow. "Even before this. Those _things_ were never us, they just had the wheel occasionally. All we are now is free of them."

"That's supposed to make it easier?"

"Less sparkly, perhaps."

"Hah," Jackie managed a small grin, "I admit, if I never see a firestorm gain, I'll be happy. Oh, I nearly forgot…" she trailed off as she picked up something from a nearby table and pushed smooth material into his hand. "Thought you'd want these back too."

Richard looked at the black gloves draped over his palm. Wordlessly, he nodded, pocketed them and started towards the door. He stopped very suddenly, staring unseeingly at the woodwork.

"Tomorrow morning."

"What?"

"We've got a story to finish. For old times' sake."

-x-

Sam hadn't known the Terrace had a garden. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a neighbouring series of small, fenced yards, but from the _inside_… well, it was rather different. A lawn the size of a football pitch was surrounded by greenhouses – some with several storeys – and raised herb bed, their occupying plants swaying gently to hidden breezes. There was even a small pond in one corner, its water unusually black and calm. The garden seemed to have escaped the damage done to the inside of the building, but for a few broken greenhouse windows, and a couple of shallow hex-grazes in the grass.

However, few eyes were drawn to the meagre damage, and there were many eyes present. The whole Terrace was spread out across the lawn, arranged in rows around a square of nine wooden tables. Each one was piled high with wood and each pyre – for they couldn't have been anything else, however you looked at them – was occupied by a still figure, shrouded in thin grey cloth up to the neck. Sam didn't recognise most of them, but one of the exposed faces she did know. Kate was set a little further away from the rest, just in front of a low podium. She looked very different to last time Sam had seen her. Almost younger, somehow.

The crowd had been quiet already, but a complete hush fell over them as two figures took to the podium. Jackie spoke first. She was actually wearing less black than usual, and her now-auburn hair bore marks of unaccustomed attempts to tame, but her words carried smooth and strong when she spoke.

"It's not fair." She gestured with a set of white-painted nails towards the prone figures. "But we've been though hell, and its fires are seldom fair to those they scorch. We're here, now, to honour our fallen." She continued, with names, remembrances, personal messages from other residents. Her expression was open, genuine as her words, and as Sam glanced round she saw people drawing closer to each other. She saw Kipling, briefly, burying his head in Chris' shoulder as his own shook. Sam turned back to the podium, feeling strange. She wasn't crying. She'd shed so many tears in the last few days that she doubted she had any left; so she listened. When Jackie finished the eighth eulogy, she stopped and a different kind of silence fell over the crowd. Only one left, and everyone knew which one it was. Wordlessly, Jackie stepped aside, making way for the moment of weighted silence.

"I expect you're all waiting for an explanation." Richard's voice cut through the air like a verbal scythe, missing no one as it swept from ear to ear. He stepped forward, his cloak uncharacteristically still. His features were as immobile as a statue's, his expression barely even shifting when he spoke.

"This is no time for explanation or for weak words spoken in pretty ways to justify, or worse, _excuse_ what happened. It should never have done so, but every one of us knew that one day something like it would. Well, we've seen that day and for what it's worth, we _won_." He nearly spat the word. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw his bare hands clench a little. Richard shook his head and his gaze moved over to the shrouded forms.

"This isn't the time for celebration. We've lost nine of our own and we will mourn them. And I do mean _them_." His eyes flashed dangerously as he spoke, and suddenly the brown stare was impossible to meet. "Whatever else you may believe, whatever else you think you know, know this: we are nothing more or less than what we have _chosen_ to become. With Sues, or without them, you are _yourselves_, and as far as I'm concerned, you always have been. So –" he straightened up and something almost like a smile reached his lips, if not his eyes, "– I extend this offer to everyone here. You're free. That means you can leave, if you want to."

The shock was palpable. Sam stared at Richard, her eyes very wide. _Leave?_ Leave the Terrace? The idea grated oddly against her mind, even if a small part of her felt it knew why he'd offered. Almost all of the residents were completely human now, so even the Ministry couldn't touch them outside. No risk of Sue resurface, because there was no Sue left to do so.

_Everyone here_. Sam looked round, trying to find Luce or Darek in the crowd. It extended to them, too? They were the only other ones she knew still had their unconscious lodger. But he'd said it. Everyone. Free to _choose…_

The murmuring took a while to die down. When silence returned, Richard stood forward again. He nodded.

"Another choice. Whatever you decide, I'm proud of you all. And so was Kate."

The moment stretched with the tension of over two hundred caught breaths. Richard turned to the final pyre. His lip twitched, and when he spoke his voice was so soft as to be only just audible.

"I shouldn't have to speak for Kate. You all knew her, have your own thoughts to bring to her memory. Don't let the events of the last few days cloud that." He stopped, and took a slow breath, then raised his left hand, with the palm held towards the crowd. Visible clearly now was a thin scar, about the width of a finger, etched into the skin. It seemed paler than when Sam had glimpsed it before.

"Kate has been with me, with _us_, since the first spork. She grew with us, and kept everything running smoothly as the Terrace became something far more than anything we had ever dreamed it could be. Yes, she was hard, and she demanded nothing less than everything you could give. But that's what she put into this place. Her heart belonged here, and at the end I swear to you _she was her own!_" his voice rose suddenly, ringing out almost harshly across the group. Daring anyone to disagree.

No one would. They wouldn't have dared. Sam remembered Richard's reaction, an eternity ago, back in the gestalt. Remembered the hollow moment of agony in his eyes as he'd torn his own spork from Kate's lifeless chest.

…_oh Merlin…_

"I've never claimed to have all the answers," Richard broke his own silence with a more normal voice, "nor do I know what happens when people pass through the veil of this world. But I do know two things. Firstly, whatever lies ahead for our fallen, they've gone to meet it as _themselves_. And second –" suddenly, he flung his cloak aside, levelling his wand at Kate's body, "– the best we can do is give them a _damn good send-off!_"

Several figures stepped out of the crowd and silently took up positions around the pyres, wands drawn. Luce, Darek, the Jennys, Elsa, and a few of the older Terrace residents that Sam didn't recognise as well. There were tears streaked visibly down the women's cheeks, and even Darek's eyes were glistening slightly, but the outstretched wands were held quite steady.

Jackie stepped forward until she was standing next to Richard. She made a very quick movement, an almost invisibly short squeeze to his arm, before drawing her own wand and pointing it at the pyre.

Silence.

Then, in perfect unison, the armed group shouted. Sam couldn't tell what they'd said, if it were a spell she recognised, something new or just pure emotion in sonic form, but in the same moment the tips of a dozen wands exploded and blue light lanced home. Each pyre erupted in blue-tinted flame, their occupants vanishing in new shrouds of white-hot fire.

"Goodbye Kate," Richard said, so quietly that Sam wouldn't have realised he had even spoken if she hadn't been watching his face. "Be free."

The pyres burned without sound. The flames were clearly magical, giving no smoke, and Sam couldn't feel any heat coming off them. If water could burn, it would look like that, she decided. The light was strangely soft, brilliant without being blinding, and it swam in the heart of each tear that ran down cheeks already bright with liquid grief. The firelight sparkled around Jackie's mismatched eyes, tracing shining rivulets down her face as she led the outpouring of loss; but above it all the dark figure was highlighted harshly against an empty sky, his expression as hard and steady as the statue he so resembled.

-x-

The pyres burned quickly, with the kind of elegant completeness that normal fire could never have achieved. Jackie tightened her grip on her wand, feeling the unspoken signal as the blue flames began to drop. As one, the wand-bearers muttered the final incantation and the last tongues of flame began to spin. Faster, lower, _tighter_, until there was nothing but a fist-sized ball of spinning blue light in the centre of the unscorched tables. The globes held for a moment, and then the light peeled away and died, the brilliance fading, leaving behind a simple, small white urn.

Carefully, Jackie holstered her wand, and wiped the fallen tears from her cheeks. She stared at the little urns and swallowed, trying to moisten her dry mouth. Funerals always got her like this. She'd been to quite a few – life in the Terrace could be dangerous, after all – but _this_…

Her gaze settled on the nearest urn. She had said her own, personal, goodbyes last night, before they started setting this up, but seeing the little white shapes lying there brought a very _final_ sense to the whole thing. It was so strange to think that Kate wasn't going to be there anymore. She had been there, ever since Jackie, well, _became_ Jackie. Her earliest clear Self memory was of a tall, slightly icy girl in Gryffindor robes and a prefect badge, charming bandages over Jackie's ragged spork wounds.

Nine years was a long time. Odd, now, how fast it seemed to have gone by.

Jackie watched the crowd start to disperse. Grief was one thing, and a very necessary one, but there was still a lot of work to be done. A tiny smile reached her lips as she saw Sam helping Chris move a pale Kipling towards the main building. Even now, the Terrace showed its strength. _We look after our own._ Even if some decided to leave, Jackie hoped they'd take that much with them.

The urns were being moved now. It wasn't an organised event, but gradually people broke out of the crowd and carefully lifted a white shape – the table vanishing once it was empty – and moving towards the far end of the garden with their charge. There were still tears on some of those faces, and grim expressions of determination on others. Either way, by the time the garden had nearly emptied, eight urns had been moved, and their bearers had joined the last lines of the crowd as it vanished back into the building.

Richard had been still for so long that Jackie jumped a little when he moved. Silently, he stepped off the podium and moved over to the final table. He stood beside it for a while, before reaching out and lifting the tiny urn with a care so slow it bordered on reluctance. The table vanished as he turned and began walking, strangely stiffly, along the same route the others had taken. Jackie followed him.

At the far end of the garden was a small grove of yew trees. Tall enough have a reasonable canopy, the trees formed a lightly shadowed green cave, carpeted with fallen needles and hidden from the rest of the garden by walls of crossed branches. Richard moved through the opening in his usual way – effortlessly fitting through a space that everyone else had to duck to pass – and Jackie quietly dodged in after him. At the back of the arboreal cavern, a large, black granite plinth stood against the trunks. The eight urns had joined the older ones set on the top, stark against the dark stone. There were a lot more than eight names etched in silver into the headstone. Time had its harvest here too.

As Richard made his way towards the memorial, Jackie watched him. He was moving very oddly, as if having to override his own limbs' reluctance to move with sheer force of will. It was painful to watch. He didn't want to be there. _She_ didn't want to be there, if she were honest, wanted everything to somehow un-happen and for it all to be back to normal. They both knew that it never would be.

There was a light _chink_ as Richard reached the stone and gently laid his burden down. The sound was followed by a faint scraping, and both stares watched four letters carve themselves into the headstone.

"That's it then."

Jackie blinked. She'd never heard Richard's voice sound like that. Dull. Empty. She made her way round until she could see his face. It was as blank, as statuesque, as it had been ever since he'd woken up, and he was staring at the silver letters of Kate's name.

"I killed her. You know that."

Jackie swallowed the lump in her throat.

"We all promised, Richard. You know _that_." Through the eyes of memory, Jackie saw the old scene play out. She could almost feel the shade of the spork under her fingertips, hear her own shuddering heartbeat as the three gazes had met. As they'd promised. Alone, together. A pledge to themselves, to do what must be done.

"Would you have done it? If it had been you?" Richard asked quietly. Jackie hesitated.

"I'd- I'd have tried. I think." She swallowed again, not wanting to voice what she had to say. "But it was never going to be me, was it? I don't… have what it needed."

There was silence for a while.

"It hasn't stopped." Richard shook his head. "The Sues'll keep coming, and we've got to be here. I've got to keep this place running."

"_We've _got to keep this place running," Jackie said firmly, "I said I'd be watching your back, didn't I? We'll manage."

Richard a mirthless laugh.

"Oh yes? And how many are going to stay here now?"

"Most of them. No, I'm not kidding," she added as she saw the flicker of surprise on his blank face. "We might need to diversify a bit, but having some operatives in the wider world on a more permanent basis could be useful. No one's going to leave, Richard. Not while you're here. They believe in you. And so did Kate. She's never been wrong about that."

Richard didn't move. Very slowly, a tiny smile crept onto his lips. His shoulders squared as he straightened up, and -

The statue shattered.

Jackie let out a gasp as Richard suddenly slumped forward, hands barely taking his weight on the plinth as he sank to the ground. His forehead hit the stone with a dull thud and he leaned heavily against it, but it wasn't _that_ sound that drew the ear. It took several heartbeats of pure shock before Jackie actually realised what was happening.

He was crying.

She snatched her wand, sealed the area and then flung it aside as she dropped down and wrapped her arms tightly around him. For once, he didn't resist. Jackie pulled him close, away from the stone, and rested her chin on his head as he shook violently with each shuddered breath, his muscles spasming erratically. Half-strangled sounds choked haltingly from his throat, but there were few actual tears, as if his eyes were closed too tightly to let much escape. She muttered softly to him, the nonsensical, half-wordless comforting babble she used on others when they broke down. She couldn't tell if it was doing much good, but she was _here_, at least, as his shields collapsed; a decade of bottled, suppressed and rigidly-controlled feelings bursting free in an emotional tsunami.

It would be very easy to drown in that flood.

She wasn't got to let that happen.

Gradually, the shuddering began to lessen, and Jackie shifted her position, giving him more space to breathe as the tortured moans turned slowly into normal sobs. His features relaxed from agonised to merely twisted, and the tears started properly.

He spoke, then, more than he had for a very long time. Jackie listened. Some of it she already knew, some long suspected. All of it, she knew they'd never talk about again.

She just listened.

Eventually, even the tears ran out.

She didn't know how long she lay there with her back pressed into the granite and Richard wrapped in her arms as she gently stroked his hair. She watched his face slowly relax, the horrible tension draining out of his body. The pain wasn't over – not something like that – but at least he might be able to give proper grief a go now. He'd been so different since he'd woken up, missing all his fire, even his anger, that she'd been worried about what he was going to do. However he emerged from this, it couldn't be worse than the dead face of the last twenty-four hours.

"You ought to talk a bit more," she said quietly, brushing a few bits of twig off his cheek. So suddenly it made her jump, a hand shot up and caught her wrist.

"Between us, we make two normal conversationalists."

Richard's eyes opened. They were bloodshot and faintly swollen, but they were alive again. He sat up, disentangling himself from her arms, and brushed some of the dead leaves off his shirt. Jackie caught his arm before he could speak.

"Are you alright?"

He stopped, looked up at the silvery list of names above them, and then back at her. Pain still glittered at the back of his eyes, and his lips twitched oddly before he replied, but when he did speak his voice was strong, if quiet.

"Probably not. But I think I will be. … Jackie?" He suddenly looked uncomfortable, and Jackie nearly laughed at the contrast of it all. She managed not to.

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

Jackie grinned and leaned forward, capturing him in a fresh hug before he could dodge away.

"Anytime. And I _mean_ that," she said, pointedly, as she released him again. They helped each other up and Jackie bowed her head towards the memorial for a moment, before scooping up her wand and stepping outside. She left the silencing ward up as she waited. A few minutes later, Richard appeared from the trees and gave her a small nod. They fell into automatic step as they set off across the lawn.

Jackie couldn't help notice the contrast between Richard's movements now and the stiffness of before. His stride was back, even his cloak was moving a bit more again, but somehow he seemed more… open. Some of those shields hadn't gone back up.

They reached the door just as it opened and Luce appeared. She saw them, and Jackie noted the usual split moment of situation appraisal that seemed to be the Field equivalent of a greeting. The blonde nodded.

"I was wondering where you'd gone. Ground-floor clearance is going fine. Darek's taking apart the ward on the Scanns staircase, and Jo and Ivy's team is opening the cellars again. Thought you'd want a quick appraisal before we went any further." Luce's gaze stayed a little longer than necessary on Richard's face, but if she found anything unusual in his appearance then she didn't mention it. Richard nodded thoughtfully.

"Anything less positive?"

Luce grinned.

"You know us too well. Alright, we've had two mild concussions, four gashed limbs and a broken ankle. Oh, and Darek says something called a 'foose-box' has melted."

Jackie met Richard's gaze. He gave her a slightly rueful grin.

"Business as usual, I suppose," he muttered. He turned back to Luce and his expression hardened to its more usual scowl. "Right, I'll join Darek on that curse. I want the Suescope dug out, a temporary Scanns set up somewhere that's clear and at least one fireplace cleared and hooked back up. We need at least an emergency Field presence on call, and since you and Darek are the only ones who haven't had a mental upheaval I'm making that you. Now, as for –"

Jackie stopped listening, and smiled to herself as Richard reeled off an increasing list of crisp instructions. Luce discretely produced a notebook halfway through. She snapped it shut when he'd finished and threw a joking salute.

"Nice to have you back, boss-man." She span on her heel and vanished into the building. They could hear her issuing instructions before she'd even reached the second room. Jackie nudged Richard in the ribs as they went inside.

"Hey. Buy you a coffee, or high-sugar equivalent? Before you go all dark, scowly and omnipresent again, I mean."

"I –" Richard stopped. Jackie followed his gaze, and saw the small figure carrying a tray of empty mugs and weaving her way through the team currently resurrecting bookcases.

_Ah._

"I'll meet you there." She nudged him again. "And you'd better arrive. Or I shall follow you around and chain-smoke until you surrender."

"Or petrify you."

"Always the charmer, Richard."

-x-

Sam hopped over a short-haired brunette who was doing something complicated half-under the floorboards, circumnavigated another woman mostly hidden by a stack of wobbling books, turned and nearly collided with someone else she could have sworn hadn't been there when she'd looked last. She stepped back, looked up, and gulped as Richard loomed over her.

A dozen images blurred across her mind, ending with the blank, empty face that had stared emotionlessly out across the burning pyres. She swallowed.

"Um…"

Then she realised that he was smiling. Or at least, what counted as smiling for Richard. He deftly plucked the tray out of her hands, deposited it on a passer by, and dropped a hand onto Sam's shoulder, steering her into an unoccupied side room. The door swung shut, cutting out a few curious glances, and Sam looked at the floor. She didn't feel she could meet Richard's gaze.

She didn't know what she was expecting. What he actually said was far away even from her wildest ideas.

"I wanted to thank you, kid."

Sam's head shot up, eyes widening as she stared up at him. The first thing that struck her was that, this time, the smile had reached his eyes. Then she realised her jaw was hanging open, and she shut it quickly.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me. You did well."

"I… I didn't _do_ anything!" Sam stammered, feeling her cheeks flush hotly under the stare, "I just… I don't know! I didn't know anything, even when I _did_ something I just made it up, and –"

"And how, exactly, did you think I do it?"

Sam stared.

"But you always have a plan!"

"I think fast, when I need to." Richard looked at her hard, his face serious, "and from what I've seen, so do you." He leaned against the wall and nodded to her. "You've got good reactions, you're a damn sight tougher than you think you are, and you seem to have a decent grasp of which orders can be ignored. I'm impressed, kid, and that's notoriously hard to do. So – " he straightened up, business-like again, " – that's why I'm putting you in a Field Apprenticeship as soon as we're up and running enough to start the training again."

This time, there was no chance of Sam reigning her jaw back in. She was too shocked even to blush when Richard caught her hand and shook it firmly. Rough skin scraped her palm and she looked down, in time to see the thin scar as he released her hand. Richard followed her gaze.

"It's a spork wound. _The_ spork wound, actually. First one we ever had. Kate -" there, a faint twinge in his voice as he spoke them name, but there was nothing on Earth that should have persuaded Sam to admit she'd heard it "- transfigured it, and I was holding the raw materials. We knew it worked when it put that mark on me. It's why all my Field teams wear gloves, although that policy might need a re-think now. And why I'm giving you these."

He reached into his robe and produced something dark. Sam stared as it was pushed into her still-outstretched hand. The black gloves were surprisingly light to the touch. She gulped.

"I can't take your gloves!"

"This isn't an optional gift, kid."

"But they won't fit me."

"Try them." Richard's eyes gleamed, and Sam found herself obeying. Apparently that part of his stare hadn't been lessened by the pause in shades. She nearly jumped as the soft material closed around her hand, shrinking until they wrapped snugly around her fingers. She stared at them. It was very, very weird to see Richard's gloves settling onto her own hands.

"See? They change to fit their owner. They're damn near impossible to tear, charmed against a lot of simple curses and some not-so-simple ones, impervious to fire, water and blood. Real Field gloves, kid. Look after them." With that, Richard turned, reaching towards the door. Sam was barely aware of herself moving, but suddenly one of her newly-gloved hands was clutching his arm. She had to _know_.

"I… I don't understand." She gulped again as he turned back, but persevered. "Back in the- the big Sue, just before we got to Katryna, you said you'd shoot through me if you had to. But you didn't, and you pushed me out of the way and you got hurt. _Why?_"

Richard regarded her coolly. Then he shook his head and grinned.

"One of the first things you'll get taught in Field is how to be a cold-hearted bastard. One of the _hardest_ things you'll have to learn later is when to ignore that bit."

The door swung shut behind him. Sam stared at it for a while, then looked back at the gloves. Her mind was whirling, and she knew that soon she'd have to go back outside, find or be assigned something to do. She turned her hand round, flexing the fingers as she felt the material slide across them. _Field_. Was that what she wanted?

A dim memory flickered in the back of her mind and she grinned a little. Well, it _was_ very far away from what Serena Amber Mercedes had intended.

It was a nice thought.

-x-x-


	16. Epilogue: Full Circle

**Epilogue**

Platform Nine and Three-quarters bustled. The start of a new Hogwarts year was always busy, but this year there was something else in the air, overlaying the usual sense of frantic excitement with a far less wholesome tension. Grim-faced and black-suited Aurors were scattered throughout the crowd, failing to mingle discreetly as they shot hostile glances at everyone who happened to pass their view. They were, apparently, on the lookout for anything suspicious.

A pair of slightly narrowed, pale eyes studied the scene carefully. Their owner was standing in the shadow of a pillar, leant nonchalantly against the bricks, and at first glance didn't look too out of place. A girl in her late teens, with short, dull-blonde hair and clad in plain black robes, she wouldn't have drawn the eye for long if anyone _had_ looked at her. Odd, really, how they didn't. Any glance in her direction seemed to skim over her, unseeing, as if she were nothing more than an extension of the brickwork herself.

Steam swirled across the platform as the huge red bulk of the Hogwarts Express whistled, and the stragglers began to hurry towards the train. A boy with dark hair and glasses dodged past the girl's position without even glancing at her, followed by a tall red-haired man who passed so close by he almost trod on her foot.

Sam watched them go. She recognised the boy – with his face regularly printed across all the Wizarding papers, and even more regularly appearing in Field reports, she'd have had trouble _not_ knowing who he was – but nearly getting trampled by celebrities wasn't something she was focusing on. There was one coming. She'd helped track this one down herself, and it was so close she could _feel_ it. Still, so far everything had seemed clean.

She glanced back down the station, at another figure hidden in plain view. The taller woman noticed her look and gave a small nod of encouragement. She tucked a length of grey-streaked blonde behind her ear, settling back to watch. This wasn't her pickup – Luce was there in a more invigilatory role, and to make sure nothing got out of hand. Sam turned back to her vigil over the rapidly-emptying platform, determined that nothing _would_ go wrong. The changes of the last three years weren't limited to the Wizarding community's increasing paranoia. She'd trained damn hard for this. Apprentice to lower Level-Four in three years would be fast, she knew, but they'd been a little short on Field after the Terrace's chaotic upheaval.

Her musings cut short as there was a discreet crackling sound from a pocket of her robe. She quickly plucked free a small, round mirror, and muttered "Sam". Her reflection distorted, dissolved, and reformed as a different face. Mismatched eyes stared out at her, disproportionably huge, and then Jackie moved back from the mirror and the rest of her face came into view. She was grinning broadly.

"Just wanted to wish you luck."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't this against the rules?"

"Well, I figured –" Jackie suddenly vanished from the screen and a new face appeared. Richard's gaze could be piercing even through a mirror, but there was a small smile pulling the edge of his lips.

"– since I _make_ the rules, I can break whatever I like." His expression went serious again. "Plus, the indicators are there's a Ministry Sue-squad heading your way. You should be out by then, just be aware. I expect you remember the non-Apparation exit. Good luck, Sam." The smile was back, briefly, before he vanished and the mirror returned to being reflective. Sam pocketed it and stiffened as some of her less-conventional senses started screaming. She looked up at the platform barrier in the same moment that it shimmered oddly and a new figure emerged.

It was a girl. Long, jet-black hair fell elegantly down past her shoulders, waving to its own breeze. Large eyes, deep grey and glittering with tiny flecks of captured silver, stared out of a set of flawless features, and her trolley – stacked impossibly high with Muggle designer bags – began moving alongside her at a wave of her hand. Sam looked closely at the pile of luggage, until she found a name embossed in gold across the biggest trunk.

A rather malicious grin spread across her face as she read the name:

**Serena Black**

Sam drew her wand, carefully checked her Interaction wards, and readied herself. The girl was going to have to pass right in front of her, if she wanted to get to the train. Heels clicked on the station as the Sue moved closer, tossing her raven mane impertinently.

Briefly, Sam wondered what her quarry was thinking. About school, probably, and making so _many_ new friends, everything being so _perfect_, because nothing could _possibly_ go wrong for _her._

It might even be the best day of her life.

Sunlight caught on silver as Sam gently slid her spork from its holster.

"Well, kid, you're pretty much what I _was_." Sam stepped out of her cover and met the Serena's shocked grey stare. Her own smile was honest, and bright, and utterly terrible.

"Now, let's see if you're anything like I _am_."

– **End –**

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(Well, that's it! Thanks to my betas and reviewers, and I hope you all enjoyed the story. If you did, or didn't, or simply have a question I may not have addressed, then feel free to let me know (: )


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